


The Bodyguard

by Karfraegh18



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-17
Updated: 2009-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karfraegh18/pseuds/Karfraegh18
Summary: Jensen is receiving death threats and as the popular actor in a show about the Supernatural he is forced to have a bodyguard.  Jared is a cop on suspension, framed for intent to supply drugs, and really doesn't want to protect Princess Ackles.  It's going to be a rough ride for both of them...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This is NOT based on the film The Bodyguard (altho i did shamelessly steal the gate scene...)

New York

 

The banging was sudden, sharp, and dragged Jared out of his sleep in an instant, quickly he rolled onto his back, ignoring the pain across his shoulder, grabbing at his pistol and realising he had fallen asleep still fully clothed, all at the same time.

 

As alert as he could be, he pushed hair out of his eyes and looked at his clock; Jeez, freaking six am, his first day back in real life and still someone wanted a piece of him. It wasn’t as if anyone knew where he was and this was supposed to be a freaking safe house.

 

Carefully he tried to sit up, running his shaking left hand through chestnut hair that brushed his shoulders and fell in shaggy waves around his head. Drawing that same hands down his face he caught skin on stubble and inwardly shivered, the damn stubble and hair, that was going to be the first to go as soon as he had enough sleep to trust himself with a razor.

 

The banging on the door became more insistent, accompanied by his full name, his real name, not the name he had hidden under for the past year, but his actual god given name. Standing was hard, exhaustion seeping into every muscle, every bone, and he stretched tall, walking his fingers on the white painted ceiling, feeling his spine arch and pop. As casually as breathing, he checked the round in his Glock and sighed as he pushed it into his jeans at the base of his spine. Whoever wanted him at six in the morning was not going to have an easy reception, not at this house.

 

He checked the porch from the side window, cops, two uniforms standing with no care in the world, at his freaking door, in the middle of the night. This must be some kind of joke, maybe it was Mike's idea of pranking his down time. Sending rookies to his front door to wake him from his planned seventy two hours sleep. Bracing himself for whatever shit Mike had organised, and cursing the him for his odd sense of humour, he moved to open the door.

 

The two uniforms looked at him, and hey, he knew he looked kinda shit, drugs did that too you, but the look of contempt on their faces was enough to dent his self esteem.

 

“Officers?” He began, moving half out on to the porch, his hands wide and open at his side.

 

“Jared Padalecki? Officer Jared Padalecki?” The oldest looking one asked, although old was clearly subjective as he couldn’t be more than a few days out of the academy.

 

“Yes,” Jared replied, his stance shifting, sudden worry at his family hitting his gut, maybe this was something from San Antonio. The other uniform, the younger one, with the name Murphy emblazoned on his chest, and curly blonde hair that gave him the look of a surfer, looked uneasily behind them and Jared followed his gaze. A non-descript grey sedan sat idling at the kerb, and even as Jared started to ask what the fuck was going on, the doors opened and three men and one woman climbed out. They walked the length of the path and it was as if Jared could smell the elitist smugness, eminating them from where they stood in their dark suits with their folder and files. The uniforms moved to one side and the woman took a step closer, she held up ID.

 

“Jane Williams, IAD.” She issued brisk and clipped, pushing the id back into her jacket and standing still in front of him.

 

“And?” Jared asked, he didn’t mean to be rude but two hours sleep meant he couldn’t for the life of him see why Internal Affairs were on his doorstep at ass o’clock in the morning, flashing IDs and backing themselves up with uniforms. The woman, this Williams, looked expectantly at the Uniform with the blonde curly hair and he coughed embarrassed.

 

“Office Padalecki sir,” he started respectfully, handing over a twist of papers that Jared took wordlessly from his sweaty hands, “we have reason to believe you have drugs on these premises with intent to supply, a federal warrant has been issued to enable us to search the premises, you are being asked to step aside to allow us to carry out the edicts of the warrant.”

 

Jared heard every word. A year undercover seconded to the NYPD, a drugs ring brought the ground, a year of his life under an alias, a dedicated and respected young officer, and they were here accusing him of…

 

Shock shot through him, accusing him of having drugs, with intent to supply, did they know who he was?

 

“This is bullshit, I’m on secondment to NYPD from Dallas” he threw at the woman inches from his face; she simply stared back at him, implacable, like a stone in ice.

 

“Would you please relinquish your weapon and step outside the premises Officer Padalecki.” She said firmly, ignoring his words, placing a hand on the doorframe angling her body to slip past him. He shifted slightly blocking her entrance, looking down at her from his six four, his face carefully blank, his shoulders squared and tension radiating from him in waves. She refused to back down, drawing herself tall and staring back at him, until the battle of wills ended with Jared huffing in disgust and swinging to slump down on the side of his porch, gesturing for the others to enter.

 

“Your weapon Officer,” she insisted, motioning one of the uniforms to step forward to relinquish Jared of his concealed pistol. Jared looked up, ready to fight his corner, this was just a freaking waste of time, but he didn’t argue, jettisoning the cartridge and handing the glock and ammo to surfer cop, before settling back against his front wall, watching carefully as IAD and the older uniform split into two teams and started to check out the house. Surfer cop stood nervously, Jared’s pistol loose in his hands, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

 

If he had had sleep, if he felt more human, Jared would talk to the guy, get him to calm down. Jared had a very calming effect on people; from handling Becky Rogers and the missing tooth incident in third grade, right through to bringing down the drugs cartel he had infiltrated, it was all done with calm and thought. He shivered, it was cool out here in just his jeans and a T, bare feet curling into damp grass, and looked up expectantly as figures emerged from his small house.

 

Williams held up a bag, a clear bag, and inside a collection of smaller bags, Jared didn’t have to guess to know what was in them. She said nothing. He said nothing. Just listened when surfer cop read him his rights and answered in the right places, allowing his hands to be cuffed behind him. He wasn’t going to struggle or argue, this was clearly some kind of screwed up bullshit. What he wanted to say, to shout, to insist was, I’ve been framed, that bag is nothing to do with me, guys you need to contact Dallas PD, NYPD, for fucks sake that isn’t mine.

 

Still he said nothing, this would all be sorted at the station and then he would get a big handed apology which he could wipe in the smug face of Jane Williams.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Vancouver

 

“I said I wanted freaking Evian, does this look like Evian to you? If I ask for Evian I don’t expect some cheap knock off shit, why can you not understand that? Are you stupid?” The PA quaked as the bottle was waved in front of her face. Water was water wasn’t it? Why was he shouting at her so damned loud? He might be Jensen hunk of the month ghost hunter Ackles but she really didn’t deserve the prima dona treatment. She opened her mouth to speak, not really sure what she was going to say, going from being in awe of one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen, to being suddenly very scared. She was counting on this internship to help her pay next terms bills, and if she ruined things now…

 

“Jensen calm down,” the other man in the room looked up from a pile of scripts, his eyes screwing tight to focus on the younger man who paced menacingly in front of the clearly terrified girl. Jensen had been on edge all day, and waiting for these interviews was clearly not helping the situation. He knew more than most about the man who stood there visibly shaking with anger, as his agent for near ten years he was paid too know, and he could see just how close Jensen was to losing it.

 

Jensen turned to him, drawing frustrated hands through short spiky hair, “Jim, for gods sake, how much longer do I have to wait in this godforsaken hole with these idiots?” At this, the poor PA scuttled from the room and Jim sighed, knowing he would have to do some serious bowing and scraping with her to stop this from getting out.

 

“One more interview, son.”

 

“How many times do I need to tell you, don’t call me that, I am not your son, and I have had about all I can freakin take of sitting here waiting on these amateurs.”

 

Jim started his whole calm down speech again, but thanked the heavens when the door opened and someone looked in, “ready for you now Mr Ackles,”

 

“About freakin time,” Jensen started to follow the aide out, stopping only when Jim pulled him by the arm, irritated and snapping, pulling himself away from the grasp.

 

“Play nice Jensen,” Jim warned.

 

At this Jensen stopped, turning to face Jim, a look on his face that Jim could only describe as a mixture of sadness and a particular kind of exhaustion he knew so well. It passed so quick Jim was convinced he might have imagined it, as the familiar mask of no emotion closed over Jensen's face and shut down his friend’s expressive green eyes.

 

They said nothing more and Jensen left, Jim sitting heavily down on the sofa and pulling out the sheaf of papers that he had been collecting over the past few days. Every note a death threat, every note clear with vitriolic intent, Jensen’s name and life in a maniac’s hands.

 

Jensen this is serious we need to call in the feds here

 

No Jim, if we just ignore them they’ll stop

 

They are not gonna stop, this is five weeks now…

 

They’ll stop, they’ll get bored

 

A body guard then-

 

No, I’ll keep my head down, but if there is the slightest chance of getting the Spiderman gig I can not be seen as a liability on set, do you really think they’ll hire an actor who needs a freaking babysitter or causes feds to be climbing all over their set?

 

Sighing at Jensen’s idiocy Jim pulled out his cell, thumbing through his contact lists and stopping to select the name of a man who was his last resort. The phone connected and rang twice before a gruff voice answered with a single word.

 

”Lehne”

 

“I know I said I wouldn’t pull the favour, but I really need your help.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared decided there and then that Chief Lehne had the devil in him.

 

“No,” he said categorically

 

“I’m not seeing a lot of options here Padalecki. What do you want? You actually want a security guard watch at Walmart?”

 

Jared winced, he wasn’t going to say it but what to do next had crossed him mind, the whole what the hell do I do now bit. “I’m not a babysitter,” he started in his defence, worrying at a loose thread in his jeans.

 

“Your suspension was upheld, you have a minimum of six to ten months downtime until this gets to trial, tell me what else you gonna do with that time?”

 

“Find the people who are tryin’ to frame me?” Sarcasm rich in his voice he shrugged and then frowned as Lehne leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

 

“Jared, you are a liability son, here in New York, we cant have you here, you need to go home, you can’t be searching the streets, showing your face, looking for some nebulous bad guy who you allege has framed you - ”

 

“Allege? I was framed and you damn well know it” Jared stood suddenly, anger spiking at the casual accusation that he was lying. Lehne raised his hands trying to placate.

 

“I know Jared, but let us do our job here, go, take the six months, live the Hollywood life, we’ll talk to you every step of the way.” Jared tensed, tuning in to the undercurrent of threat that laced the older man’s voice. Lehne was asking him to trust, something that Jared didn’t do lightly. He was asking Jared to trust in a team he didn’t know well, to look for whoever framed him before it went to trial, and that was personal. “I’m not asking Padalecki, I’m telling,” he added quickly, seeing doubt and confusion in the younger man’s face. “You have to trust we will do the right thing for you.”

 

Jared didn’t know what to say, trust… that was a hard thing for him to give, especially after the last year. Still he really wasn’t left with a lot of options and he wasn’t sure he could handle six months of down time without having a focus. Lehne was right, him hanging round in the city, running his own investigation could seriously compromise the drugs network that he had bought to its knees. The alternative was to go home, if not back to his own apartment in Dallas, then certainly to his family in San Antonio. The impact of his work, the emotions he still carried deep inside him, the things he had seen and done over the last year… it just made him feel so dirty, so wrong, and he couldn’t inflict himself on his family, not yet.

 

“OK.” Jared finally said, tightness between his shoulders, the itch of needing to do something, anything, curling inside his gut. He finally sighed his acceptance, “I’ll go see this Jim guy, but…” he paused, fisting his hands and leaning on the table his face stubborn set, “…I am promising nothing, because, let’s be honest, I have more important shit to be dealin’ with than babysitting some princess actress.”

 

“Think of it as a holiday?” Lehne said, his voice thick with compassion, realising, even as he said it, that this statement was something of a joke. What this kid had done, what he had sacrificed over the last year, and what he had achieved… Lehne couldn’t even imagine what was in Jared’s head standing here, powerless to be able to do anything to help himself out of the shit he was in now.

 

“Tell me sir, just one thing. Tell me that you will find the person trying to screw with me, and I will walk away and do my waiting in LA.”

 

Lehne stood, extending his hand, which Jared gripped strongly, “you have my word son.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The last letter received sat on the table between them, Jensen resting his elbows on the table and supporting his head on his hands. Jim watched the younger man’s relaxed posture, the actor in front of him, knowing the relaxed look was a lie, seeing the nervous twitch to the left of his eye, the lips pressed tight. Jim read the words printed on the scanned sheet.

 

“… what do they mean Jensen? Are you telling me everything?” Jensen looked momentarily stricken, but it disappeared quickly, just like every real emotion in him seemed to do, and he shook his head.

 

Jim sighed inwardly, Jensen wasn’t telling him everything that much was obvious, and as he reached out and took the paper turning it so he could read the words himself, Jensen seemed paler, looked almost sick, before pushing the chair back and stalking from the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

The words on the paper, eight simple words, mocked Jim with their stark clarity and threat.

 

For what you took from me, be scared.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared made the restrooms his first port of call when he stepped off the plane, pulling his luggage with him he stood in front of the mirror and checked his appearance one last time. It wasn’t like a bodyguard gig came with a manual, but the scruffy street cop was probably not going to swing it. A different man looked back at him, than the one who had stood in Lehnes office the week before. He had swapped jeans and Ts for a dark grey suit and white shirt, foregoing the tie when he had tried and failed to live with one for five minutes. He was clean-shaven, but that wasn’t a hardship, he loved the smooth skin, it made him feel clean. But his hair had stayed as long as the streets had suited, however, instead of hanging loose around his face though, he had tied it back with a piece of leather and it was contained and smooth. At six four he knew he sometimes came across as intimidating and he guessed if there was a manual on how to be a bodyguard he would tick the box for bodily presence. He worked out, he was fit, he was strong, he had energy to spare, so why was he standing here, dark circles under his eyes looking so damn tired? He’d be lucky if they even let him through the door, let alone hire him, but at the same time as thinking this he kept telling himself he didn’t even want the freaking role. He had more than enough money to tide him over, he had a family he should visit…

 

Lehne had texted him on the plane, the team was in place, the case was a priority, working under the assumption that Jared being framed was integral to the entire drugs case Jared had been working on. Jared’s question was simple, how did whoever planted the drugs know about the safe house? Lehne, at this point had cleared his throat, not knowing quite what to say, but both of them knowing, unspoken, that it could only mean one thing, someone on the inside had been in on framing Jared. He felt almost helpless being 2,800 miles from where he should be, helpless and out of control and it was not a feeling he was used to, that and the whole trusting Lehne thing.

 

He sighed, splashing cold water on his face and wondering not for the first time why he had bothered with the whole gig at all, but digging deep into reserves that pushed him through the whole mess. Drying his cooling skin, he grasped his holdall and his carry on and, straightening his back, went out to the chaos of baggage and arrivals looking for the nearest exit and a taxi. Time to get this meeting over and done with and decide one way or the other what the hell he was going to do.

 

The taxi ride was uneventful and it gave him time to think, to lose himself in his own theories of what was happening back in New York, letting the drone of the cab drivers voice wash over him, answering every so often when he thought he should. All too soon he was at the gates, the half shut gates, the unlocked gates, with the number 1632 on the wall.

 

“You want I should ring?” the cab driver asked as he twisted in his seat to talk direct to Jared indicating the entrance phone, which had seen better days.

 

“No, it’s cool, they’re expecting me,” he said in reply, handing over the fare and climbing out, pulling bags with him and standing in front of the gates waiting for the car to leave. He took in the gates, the low wall, the general emptiness at the entrance, starting to walk slowly up the drive, greenery that he knew his mom would be able to identify, lining the walk. There was no one around, no one noticing him arriving, he couldn’t see security, or cameras, or anything that meant this was a secure property. Perhaps this wasn’t where she actually lived, maybe this was Jim Beaver’s house, it looked pretty impressive for an agent, a double fronted house in a row of similar houses, each one bordered by bushes and trees, secluded, private.

 

He paused at the door, turning the knob, at least that was locked. Still it unnerved him to see open windows lining the house, and mail sat on the side waiting to be collected. He pushed at the doorbell, scooping up the mail and waited. He didn’t have to wait long, the door flying open and a scantily dressed woman rushing out past him on the doorstep, long blonde hair is disarray around her head, heels so tall she stumbled into him, the smell of heavy perfume and alcohol in a haze around her. She looked up and up at Jared, he neck craning and her eyes widening, going from clumsy to calculated temptress in seconds.

 

“Hey,” she drawled, holding out her hand in a limp effort of a handshake, thrusting out one hip and licking her lips suggestively, “I’m Candy.” She added, clinging to Jared’s hand.

 

“Eric,” Jared said in his soft southern drawl, all hot Texas nights and polite. Candy’s eyes widened even further.

 

“Not the Eric?” she said breathlessly, blinking and leaning in. Jared wasn’t sure who the Eric was but given that wasn’t his actual real name he doubted it. He gave her his best aw shucks smile and wriggled his hand from hers. She simpered, he swore she actually simpered, and then she swayed to her car, a low open top convertible, throwing a be seein’ ya as she left.

 

The door remained open, raised voices in the shade of the house, and Jared followed the sound, bypassing the room and ending up in a large kitchen, a small teddy bear of a woman bustling about banging pans and swearing in what Jared thought was probably a combination of Spanish and English.

 

“¿Quién es usted” she asked as she turned and saw him standing there, “who are you?”

 

“John,” Jared provided helpfully, sliding on to a stool at the breakfast bar and taking an apple from the bowl of fruit in the middle. She muttered something under her breath and turned her back on him, so he sat where he was, crunching the apple and just waiting. The shouting was getting louder, to the point that Jared could actually catch some words. Given they included the word babysitter, Jared assumed they were talking about him and he sat mildly amused, adding a banana and another apple to his snack pile. Every so often he could sense the teddy bear’s eyes on him, and made out a few muttered Spanish words that he was sure were not the most civilised. It made him smile, but to be fair to the older woman, in general no momma could ignore his wide innocent smile, and within ten minutes she had given him coffee and added pancakes to his haul.

 

Still he listened to the raised voices, two men he could identify as the main protagonists, and a third, another man who ever so often offered his opinion in smooth rounded vowels. Cop work, quite apart from bodyguard work, was eighty percent observation and twenty percent action, Jared was used to sitting, just watching or listening and every so often he would exchange looks with Rosa, formerly known as Teddy Bear in his head, and they would exchange shakes of the head and shrugs. She still hadn’t asked what he was doing in the kitchen, it was just another sign of the problems he had already noticed, lax security, people who would come and go leaving doors wide open and windows left wide to the LA air.

 

The tone of the voices changed, became less heated and began to move this way, causing Jared to shuffle on his stool to face the door expectantly. One voice was definitely more strident than others, and Jared was good with voices, picked up Texan exhaustion in sliding vowels and slurred words in the otherwise angry tones.

 

“I don’t give a shit… ya’all need to know I’m not having some thick necked gun wielding thug hanging around me.”

 

Me? Hanging around me? Now that was an inflection in the voice that made Jared sit a little taller. His charge wasn’t an actress, but an actor, a man? Interesting. He braced himself as the three men walked into the room, a tall blonde guy whose face was set mutinously in stone, an older guy, grizzled with a greying beard and a cap pulled low over his eyes, he presumed this was Jim Beaver, and then the third man, the owner of the Texas talk, so mad, so furious, and so fucking beautiful. Jared stood, making his presence known and it was this third man that saw him, watching fear spark in his eyes as he looked from short grizzled guy to tall blonde guy and then back to Jared. Tall blond guy saw him a moment later, taking in the terror in pretty guys eyes and moving between Jared and the green eyed actor. Jared felt a twinge of almost pride as the blond man moved, creating a barrier between Jared and what he assumed was his charge.

 

There was a face off for all of thirty seconds before Jim pushed past both men and moved to Jared. “Jim Beaver,” he started, “Officer Padalecki?” He asked simply, holding out his hand, which Jared took in a firm confident hold.

 

“Jared.” He replied, dropping the hand and turning expectantly to the two guys still stood frozen in the doorway.

 

Jim sighed, “Chad,” he said, indicating the blond who fairly much bristled with protective vibes, “and this one at the back, this is Jensen.”

 

“Jen-Sen.” Jared rolled the word, tested the vowels, watching as pretty guy, Jensen moved slowly from behind Chad and stood tall in front of Jared. He looked at Jared, from the tip of his Walmart shoes, up past his cheap suit and onto the long hair tied back and mostly escaping to be tucked behind his ears.

 

Jensen’s face started to stiffen into a mask of tension, the anger inside him, the absolute certainty in him that he didn’t want a bodyguard bubbled to the surface in one huge explosion of animosity and vitriolic dislike.

 

“Fuck you Jim.” The words, spoken so determinedly, so precisely were all that Jared heard from Jensen as the older man, so intense, so wired, turned on his heel and left the room, a trail of banging and crashing indicating the path of his retreat.

 

Chad looked from Jim to Jared and with narrowed eyes he focused his energy on finding out what the hell was going on. “This is the cop? Jim, tell me you didn’t go ahead and organise this after Jensen expressly said - ”

 

“Of course I did Chad, can you imagine, if I hadn’t, if I left him exposed and vulnerable,” Jim stopped, sighed, his thirty years in the business of actors and film giving him nothing in how to deal with this situation, “you know he needs this,” he finished softly watching as Chads expression turned from mutinous and angry to accepting. Chad and Jim had spent hours discussing this, looking at the letters, talking to people, it had actually been Chad’s idea to get a bodyguard, someone who could watch Jensen. But Jensen’s arguments, his insistence that he didn’t want someone, had changed Chad’s mind, and now he was wavering between yes and no for the existence of someone to form a wall between Jensen and the world.

 

Chad knew the real reason why Jensen didn’t want someone with him 24/7, Jim knew as well, but he was convinced Jensen was in real danger. Still to bring someone in now, after all Jensen said… “I’m gonna go find him, calm him down.” Chad announced to no one in particular and left.

 

Which left Jim, Jared and a confused looking Rosa in the kitchen. “You said your name was - ” she started, and then stopped with a frown.

 

“Jared, Jared Padalecki” he introduced himself gently, and held out a hand for her to grasp, she huffed and held it briefly, muttering something that sounded like I have a wooden spoon, although Jared couldn’t be entirely sure.

 

“Come through to the office,” Jim suggested, lifting his coffee and walking out of the kitchen, Jared following, his own coffee cold and left on the counter. The room they reached wasn’t big, but it was obviously the centre of the industry that was Jensen Ackles. Posters filled wall space, some stuff Jared recognised, a lot he didn’t, a framed photograph of an ensemble cast, an incredibly young looking Jensen in the middle, signatures and hearts drawn all over it. Jared paused, looking closer, Jensen couldn’t have been more that sixteen in the photo, and he looked confident and smiling, he must have enjoyed his time with that cast if the photo was anything to go by.

 

“The show was called Family Reunion,” Jim said behind him, “Jensen was on that show for five years, started at 11, finished at 16, these others, his on screen Mom and Aunt, they mothered him, got him through the worst of his teenage years, but it was a wrench to leave it.”

 

”I don’t remember it,” Jared said, for want of something better to say.

 

“What are you, Twenty five, twenty six?”

 

Jared blinked, for a moment he had to think, passing a birthday under cover, not quite remembering the real date of his birthday for a split second, “err, yeah, twenty six.”

 

“So you are like five years younger than Jensen, you woulda been a kid in school, not quite up to watching daytime soaps I guess.”

 

“OK,” Jared agreed, “so would I have seen him in anything else?”

 

“Some Warner Brothers stuff, serial dramas, Smallville, Dawson’s Creek?” Jared just shook his head, he was still waiting to see the latest Star Wars films years after the fact. “The latest thing, it’s a good gig, just coming up to Season four of a show called Supernatural, two brothers, ghosts, demons, on CW.”

 

Jared shrugged and then frowned just as suddenly as he focused in on some of the other people in the photo, was that Chad?

 

“Yeah, Chad, he played Jensen’s brother in the show…” he paused and smirked at the look of disbelief on Jared’s face, remembering tall skinny goofy looking blonde guy against the beauty that was Ackles, “…half brother…ish.” Jared nodded, maybe that made sense in soap world.

 

He filled a few minutes looking at the posters and the pictures, getting an idea of the type of films Jensen had been in, a couple of horrors, some more episodic dramas, still he hadn’t seen anything the older man had been in. He waited as Jim made himself comfortable behind the desk, rifling through paperwork and talking to himself, until at last he cleared his throat and began to speak.

 

“These are what we have been receiving.” He finally said, and Jared slid into the chair opposite to look at the papers he had been handed, all photocopies, he assumed the originals were with the police. As he read each one, his cop genes kicked in and he finally looked up, shock in his eyes.

 

“These are death threats.” He said finally, no one had mentioned death threats to him. He slid one particular sheet from the pile. “There is only one way out of this, you have to die” Jared read out loud, then another, “I have a gun you know, I have a gun.” He stopped, “I assume the cops have these?”

 

“They have them, but they are printed on standard paper from a generic printer, nothing can be traced, there is no inflection in them that can be tracked, they are meaningless, and the cops can't do a thing until more happens.”

 

“These are death threats…” Jared pointed out.

 

“Jared, this is LA, actors receive death threats all the time, it’s life, they receive them as often as they receive proposals of marriage.”

 

Jared stood, moving paperwork and folders from the desk to the chair he had been sitting on, Jim not protesting but watching Jared’s actions as he carefully laid out the eight pieces of paper in order of the date penciled on each one, assuming this was the date of receipt.

 

They made for heavy reading, each detailed in hate and desire to hurt. Anger and an almost palpable jealousy jumping off the page. “Exes,” Jared began, his cop blood flowing faster, seeing connections immediately in certain words, “colleagues, school friends, what progress are the cops making?”

 

Jim shook his head, “Nothing, not yet.”

 

“Do they have Ackles under surveillance?”

 

“No, like I said, this is nothing to them, not yet.” Jim sounded frustrated and Jared sighed. He knew where the cops were coming from, each precinct, each district had a glut of certain crimes, in Dallas it was more white collar crime than drugs, in New York it was drugs, in LA it seemed maybe crimes of passion were the drug of choice. He knew the feeling of saying to someone, I’m sorry, but until there is proof, until someone get’s hurt there is nothing we can do, still, these letters, notes, they were pretty damn specific in what they were saying.

 

“I can see why you need a bodyguard.” Jared started, closing his eyes briefly and cursing Lehne for knowing exactly what Jared needed in his life for the next six months, “but you also need someone investigating these, trying to work this out.”

 

Jim seemed hesitant at saying the next words but he leaned forward over the desk, his hand resting on the latest note, his fingers covering the words dead and gun. “Will you take the job?”

 

Conflicting emotions sped through Jared, he didn’t know this Jensen guy, pretty or not, he had very little to go on, But his cop instincts were there at the front clamoring to know more, to solve the puzzle, and yes, part of him, the sexually frustrated twenty six year old looking at the green eyed Jensen part... well that part of him just went into full on protector mode.

 

He nodded, “Yes. Yes I’ll take the job.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chad didn’t knock, he never did. He just slipped into the room and stood at the doorway looking at his friend’s back and sighing inwardly. Jensen really wasn’t taking this whole bodyguard thing very well, but it needed to be done, he had to have some kind of wall between him and whoever was out there trying to hurt him.

 

“Did you know he had done this?” Jensen asked quietly, stretching his hands to brace himself against the window and bowing his head. Chad could see the hurt around him, the sense of betrayal in his voice.

 

“No, Jen, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t agree with what he has done.”

 

Jensen stiffened, pushing himself away from the window, turning to face Chad, uncertainty in his eyes. ”We talked about this,” he said abruptly, that same hurt in his words “I’m so close to getting this role, it’s the role of a lifetime, more than Supernatural, this could be big.”

 

“You can still go for the role Jen, it just means you take along a passenger to look out for you.” Chad was trying to be reasonable, the fear in him for what might happen…

 

“If he…”

 

”You just be discreet…” Chad said softly, walking the final few steps to stand in front of his old friend, drawing him in for a hug, Jensen resisting at first then folding in on himself and allowing himself to feel looked after. Jim had paid people off in the past to hide this secret of his, his indiscretions, and if this cop went digging, found out too much, then that was it, his career as an action hero or anti-hero was down the drain. Those indiscretions, those slip ups, could cost him everything. Chad hugged him harder, and with a move borne of instinct Jensen curled himself into the embrace, sense memory of a time when the hugging led to more than making him warm and cared for.

 

“I can be discreet.” He finally said into Chad’s neck, his breath moist against the younger man’s neck. Chad pulled him in tighter, at the same time moving his lower body away. And they stood like this for maybe five ten minutes, Jensen soaking up the support and the love, Chad was always here for him.

 

What had started as casual fuck buddies when they were on the soap together as kids, had only morphed into something else when they were both on Dawson’s Creek. Still, it had dwindled to nothing with the whole Supernatural gig, Jensen in Vancouver, Chad in LA. Jensen was 99% relieved, Chad was, and always would be his best friend, the closest to a brother he would ever have and for that he was thankful. Gently he pulled back, his hand cupping Chad’s face, dropping a small kiss on to his lips, which Chad chased even as he pulled back.

 

“You are my best friend Chad, I love you.” He said from the heart, the only real emotion he could connect with at the moment. Chad nodded, his tongue peeking out to taste the kiss Jensen had left on his lips. He felt sad, wanted maybe more than Jensen could ever give, but in the main he was glad to be a friend, so close a part of Jensen’s life more than the women he used to hide behind, or the casual fucks he hooked up with.

 

They were jerked back to reality by the sound of someone clearing their throat at the door, and Jensen looked round Chad who had turned, startled. That freaking cop, leaning on the door frame, hands in his cheap suit pockets, his face carefully blank. Temper boiled over in Jensen, temper so damn close to the surface.

 

“What are you some freaking voyeur? I tell you this for nothing, if you are hanging around me, then this room, my room, in fact this whole freaking floor is off bounds to you. OK? Do you get that?”

 

Jared blinked at the sudden outburst. “So,” he began, drawled and calm, “if your stalker comes upstairs with the whole drawn gun business then you want me to stay at the bottom?” he asked, like he was enquiring about the weather, not one hint of sarcasm in his voice.

 

Jensen took a step closer, flags of colour high on his cheeks “Are you laughing at me cop?” Jensen spat out, Chad laying a calming hand on his arm which he shrugged off with an irritated sharpness, “don’t even freaking go there, I can have you fired like that.” He snapped his fingers, each step taking him closer to the giant in his doorway, long hair curing and flicking around his face. Jared tightened his lips and nodded simply, the next words dripping with sarcasm.

 

“Fire me? Please do, then maybe I can get on with important shit in my life.” He said turning on his heel and taking the stairs two at a time, jumping the last few and casting a look back at Jensen standing at the top of the stairs.

 

“Asshole” Jensen shouted down after him.

 

“Back at ya,” Jared muttered under his breath.

 

Jensen turned back to Chad, “See what I mean, I can’t trust my secrets to some redneck cop who creeps around watching me, and who is as likely to keep the secrets quiet, as he is sell them to some magazine.”

 

“Jen, give him time, get to know him”

 

”This isn’t some god damn Whitney Kevin film you know, we don’t have to be friends for him to do his job, he just needs to stay out of my space.”

 

Jared walked back into the kitchen, it seemed safe there, and Jim was stood close to Rosa, exchanging whispers, they seemed cosy, together, and Jared’s cop brain added that to the matrix in his head. Again he cleared his throat, watching the two jump apart, Rosa blushing, Jim immediately smiling and picking up his coffee, like that was what he had been intending to do all the time.

 

“Did you speak to him?” Jim asked

 

“He was er… otherwise engaged, then he took the time out of his schedule to swear at me, and I believe I may have heard the word redneck, also I want it on record that if someone tries to kill him upstairs I can't help, sorry.” Jim frowned, not sure what to make of Jared’s sense of humour, and Jared just smiled. “Usual shit, it’ll be fine, I’ll get him to see things my way, he needs to, otherwise whoever is out here wanting a piece of him, they are clear for an easy shot."

 

“Like I said to Lehne, he has the Up-fronts, what do we do with that? I mean it is quite a big deal, kind of this show and tell party for the CW”

 

“When?”

 

“Ten days, that is kind of why I needed you now, why Jensen needs someone now.”

 

”I’ll need the itinerary, I'll need to see the place, I’ll need his cooperation.”

 

“I am not having some hulking bodyguard trailing me at the Up-fronts.” Jensen said suddenly from behind them, his voice fairly shaking with indignation. Jim sighed, Jared frowned, Jensen just wound himself up, “I’m serious Jim”

 

“I think that it’s fine for him to go on on his own,” Jared to the room in general, leaning back on the work surface, his hand resting on his gun at the base of his spine, “I mean he’ll be surrounded by like, hundreds of other people, yeah?”

 

Jim looked at Jared disbelieving, what the fuck? Jensen just nodded earnestly; at last the bodyguard without a brain was seeing it his way. Which is why his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Jared moved suddenly from his slouched position to spread his legs and point a gun right at Jensen’s head, inches from his face, the dull black weapon heavy and dark in his eye line. Fear paralysed Jensen, rooted him frozen in one place, and he waited for what was coming next. It wasn’t what he expected.

 

“How far Jensen? How far do you think you can run before I shoot you?” Jared asked simply, he was deadly serious, the tension in the room at breaking point. Jim made a noise, a kind of strangled yelp, standing in front of Rosa and casting horrified looks at Jensen who had just stopped with a look of disbelief on his face.

 

“Jared? What are you doing? Please, put the gun down.” This from Jim who was not making much sense of what he was seeing.

 

“I ask you again Jensen Ackles, how far can you run?” Jared insisted, gesturing with the gun in a small movement of his strong wrist.

 

“I don’t understand.” Jensen almost begged, taking in Jared standing relaxed, the gun firm in one hand, the tall man’s eyes focused along the barrel, hazel sparking with gold as he concentrated on his aim.

 

“Will you make it out of the kitchen?” Jared added, “maybe push Rosa in the way, or even Jim to get through?”

 

“I wouldn’t…” Jensen shook his head mutely, unable to form words, his hands raised in defense, his eyes wide with pleading, with fear.

 

Carefully Jared lowered the gun, placing it on the counter, his point made, “that is how close someone can be with a gun, so I guess you need to start telling everyone you have a bodyguard.” He said it so matter of fact, but Jensen’s heart had yet to start again.

 

Jensen’s fist clenched and flew at Jared even before he thought about it, but Jared caught the punch with ease, twisting the arm down and behind Jensen’s back, his body hard against him, his warm breath on Jensen’s neck.

 

“You son of a bitch,” Jensen said loudly, trying to pull away and not succeeding, “let the fuck go of me…” words failed Jensen even as Jared released his hold causing Jensen to stumble back away from him. Jensen stood, unconsciously placing a hand on his fast beating heart, his temper fighting with relief at seeing the gun sitting on the surface. “Did you know he had a gun?” Jensen wasn’t sure who the question was aimed at, but he raised his voice when no one replied, “did you know he bought a freaking gun into my house?”

 

Jim looked at the ground, Rosa shrugged, Chad still hadn’t made a appearance, was probably still doing lines in Jensen’s room, and Jensen had no one to blame, no one to shout at, and his little hissy fit was starting to pale in comparison to what had just happened. The letters he had received, they all mentioned a gun... I have a gun… it is black, as black as your heart… suddenly it was all too much, and his legs started to feel decidedly wobbly and detached from his body.

 

Jared just watched, seeing the bravado fade from green eyes, to be replaced by a restless shock. He had seen this before, street kids watching as friends bled out in front of them, drug deals broken by dishonesty, total surprise that the real world finally intruded on their small space, that it dared to knock on their door and cause them pain.

 

Jensen leaned into the support of the side, no colour in his face, his hands curling, knuckle white, mere inches from the gun. Slowly his hand moved to touch it, it wasn’t cold, it looked cold, but it felt solid, almost warm, and heavy as he picked it up and tested it. With his role on Supernatural, he had handled a lot of guns, prop guns, he could throw them and catch them and looks seven ways of fancy with them. But this was a real gun, with real bullets, warm from Jared’s skin, it mesmerised him. Jared moved subtly closer, keeping his eye on both gun and Jensen, and the older man immediately felt like Jared was invading his space, sending ripple of irritation that broke through the shock. He replaced the gun on the side, watching as Jared hefted it and slid it in the base of his spine where his jeans left a space and dropping his suit shirt back over it to conceal it.

 

Jensen sighed, “I don’t, I’m supposed to be… shit Jim… I’m not some fucking girl that needs to be looked after. How the hell is this going to look?”

 

“It’s gonna look like you bought a friend from Texas along to these… Up-fronts,” Jared offered simply.

 

“I don’t have… shit… you… with me, I mean do you even own clothes other than that cheap suit?” Jensen couldn’t focus on the larger picture - why exactly having six four of badass creepy gunslinging cop stood next to him might just fuel rumours he would rather not have circulating - he had to focus on the detail.

 

“I have clothes,” Jared said nodding, deliberately misunderstanding what Jensen was saying

 

“Jim, for god’s sake, he pulled a friggin’ gun on me, the freak.” He finally spat out feeling every one of his thirty one years This was the last chance for making it big after Supernatural, his last upfront for season 5 and he needed a freaking skinny blonde on his arm, not some hulking alleged friend from Texas.

 

“Jensen, he’ll be a guest, your friend.” Jim sounded concerned, scared, and for the first time Jensen could see that, as if having a gun thrust in your face jump started his own fears. Jared simply watched the play of expressions across Jensen’s face, wondering just what the hell he was thinking now.

 

As soon as the fear was there is was replaced with a careful, calculated expression as Jensen tried to regain control of the situation, drawing himself tall, and leaving the room, a casual come with me thrown over his shoulder. Jared assumed the actor meant him as no one else moved, and grabbing at an apple he followed the shorter man into the hall. Jensen moved out of a side door, onto a wide open porch at the back of the house, and Jared followed calmly, biting a large mark into the apple and crunching down on its tart sweetness. He leaned nonchalantly against a side post as Jensen paced in front of him, casting his eye around the garden, at the tall trees, the high fencing, the houses that backed onto Jensen’s property each side. This was certainly not the safest position to be standing, but without Jensen realising Jared had already started his job, aware of everything around him and subtly moving until he stood between the empty garden space and Jensen.

 

“Ground rules," Jensen started, "we need ground rules. No touching, no pushing me around, no guns visible, as far as everyone is concerned you are just a friend from Texas, visiting, then when this guy leaves off, you can go back to whatever police shit you were doing and no one will be the wiser. Agreed?” Jared sighed inwardly, Jensen was really not getting the seriousness of this situation, death threats, many of them, escalating in their hatred, were not to be ignored.

 

Biting back what he really wanted to say he forced out his own rules as calmly as possible. ”I have ground rules too, just do what I say, when I say it and we have a good chance of keeping you alive, capish?” As he said this he crowded Jensen to the door, the other man looking unsettled at the intrusion yet again in his personal space, “and let’s start by getting off of the porch and out of line of a sniper.” Jared added, as Jensen backed in to the hall, his eyes wide, stumbling, and only not falling to the floor, because Jared shot out a hand to steady him. With strength in his arms that Jensen couldn’t fail to notice Jared hauled him upright, their faces inches apart. “Know this Jensen Ackles, those letters, those threats, they are real. Someone out there is trying to kill you, don’t fuck with me and we’ll find out who it is and why he or she wants you dead.”

 

There was a fire in Jared’s eyes that made Jensen stop, his anger and distrust starting to break down. This man was going to keep him safe, how could he think of keeping secrets from him if he hoped to stay alive. He needed to stop blocking the threat from his mind, assuming it would go away. ”It wont go away,” he mumbled dejectedly, pulling himself away from Jared’s hold and standing against the opposite wall, crossing his arms defensively. Jared waited. “The death threats, the hate in them, it isn’t just going to go away is it.”

 

“No… in my experience no.” Jared had seen enough in his six years on the force to know ignoring problems never meant they went away, they just seemed to get stronger and more complicated.

 

“There’s stuff you need to know, stuff I need to tell you.” Jensen said so quietly Jared had to strain to hear.

 

“I’m a cop Jensen, I’m not stupid, I know there is stuff I don’t know yet. You tell me as much as you can, I’ll pull it together, and I will find whoever wants you dead. Meanwhile we keep you safe, and to do that I will need to get into your space and I will need to touch you and probably even push you around on a few occasions.”

 

“You can try,” suddenly on the defensive Jensen looked horrified to think that Jared was going to be getting so close.

 

“Are we OK here?” Jared asked firmly, do you understand what I am saying?

 

Jensen scrubbed hands over his eyes, “Coffee,” he said resignation in his voice, catching Jared’s arm as he went to walk past, “there is one thing… one thing that not many people know, and it might change your mind about me, you might wanna quit whilst you’re ahead.” Jared stopped, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head, “I have this thing… this secret I guess. Only because I have this film opportunity, Spiderman, a new level of bad guy… and Hollywood isn’t that forgiving of their action leads - “

 

“You’re gay?” Jared offered interrupting Jensen’s flow, cutting to the chase, watching as Jensen ducked his head, and waited. Waiting for what? Waiting for Jared to storm off? Waiting for Jared's disapproval. Well he wasn't going to get either from Jared.

 

Jensen raised his head, almost shyly, “bi, really, I mean, I guess if you wanna be really accurate I mean - ”

 

“Jensen, OK. Stop.” Jared needed coffee for this heart to heart, and lots of it.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

He had had Jensen in his sights for a full ten minutes, pacing and talking, his long legs encased in tight fitting jeans, a green T-shirt pulled across his chest and shoulders, his short brown hair spiked and probably smelling of the tea tree shampoo he knew he used.

 

The gun was heavy in his hands as he aimed and centred on Jensen’s heart, his lying deceiving black heart, but he didn’t take the shot, that freaking tall guy lurking and ruining the line of sight, then pushing Jensen back into the house.

 

Never mind.

 

It wasn’t really enough of a statement to spill Ackles’ blood in his perfect fucking house. It was the Network Up-fronts where Jensen would really learn.

 

Where he would finally pay.


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen did as he was told, Jared told him to sit, drink coffee and talk to him about everything.

 

In Jensen’s eyes, that wasn’t exactly a demand for everything, after all some things in Jensen’s life were not for sharing, but the whole sniper in the garden business had shaken him to the core. Now, sitting opposite maybe the one man who could be a barrier between him and a bullet, he actually found he wanted to talk. He slid a print out over to Jared, a print of his IMDB page,

 

“You said you needed a list of stuff I had been in,” Jensen started carefully, and Jared nodded, “It’s not like I have taken parts from other people that actually matter, I mean I’m no Brad Pitt, I didn’t generally have to fight to get my parts.”

 

“How did you get them then?”

 

“Generally hand picked, I mean, WB, Warner Brothers, they have a stable of actors and actresses, and you’ll see a lot of us cross into different shows, some of the lower budget films, I mean, that is how I got the Supernatural gig.”

 

”The show you are in now.”

 

“Yeah. I tried for another part originally but, the part they gave me, there was no one else they had considered, it was my part.”

 

“And that is long running?”

 

”Coming up for Season four now, eighty or so episodes now.”

 

“Tell me about the people on the show.”

 

Jensen paused, the thought of someone in the Supernatural family being responsible for these notes, responsible for the fear that clutched at his heart, it was almost unthinkable.

 

“No one…” he started, pausing, unable to get past the ball of worry lodged in his throat, “… not there, it’s my family, they are like my family.” He bit his lip, how telling was it that he considered his Vancouver show like a family? He could see Jared staring at him, his face carefully blank, not outwardly judging him in any way. “I'm close to the guy… he is almost like my little brother anyway… the guy who plays my brother in the show… they’re all just actors… and engineers, and makeup artists, and directors, and shit… none of them would wish me harm, I’m certain of it.”

 

Jared nodded, he had his own theories in his head, maybe Jensen was a prima donna on his show as much as he seemed when Jared had first met him, maybe this humble quiet Jensen that sat opposite him talking with agitated animation was actually the actor from hell.

 

“I’ll look into it all,” Jared said softly, watching as Jensen reached for his IMDB screen print and pulled it back,

 

“I have always left shows amicably, no show I have ever been in has ever entirely depended on me, I’ve not destroyed anyone’s career, I’ve never been up for a role that wasn’t really already mine, I just don’t think you’ll find what you are looking for there in that list.”

 

Jared pulled at the list, leaving his hand on it, almost daring Jensen to pull it back, it was a start knowing where Jensen had been, just a start, but it didn’t matter what Jensen thought in all this. Something had happened and somewhere along the line the actor had maybe said something or done something that had pushed someone to begin to hate.

 

“It could just be some deranged fan.” Interjected Chad from the door, and both Jensen and Jared looked up to see the slightly disheveled man bracing himself against the door, a look of wariness on his face to see the two men sat at the table.

 

“I already had that one covered.” Jared said softly.

 

“You did?” Jensen blinked. He knew he had some passionate fans, but none that would want to see him dead, surely?

 

Chad sighed, “of course he did Jen. I assume you told him about the girl who turned up to that shopping centre thing in a wedding dress, or the one that threw herself off the stairs and jumped you?” Jared tilted his head, watching a blush stain Jensen’s face and neck.

 

“Jensen?” he asked softly.

 

“I have some passionate fans OK?” Jensen started defensively.

 

“It’s the girly eyes and the lips,” Chad snorted, causing Jensen to duck his head even further, “and the looks and the smile and the eyelashes.”

 

“Chad,” Jensen almost whined at the labeling of his body parts. So some of his fans went a little far, that was part of the territory of being an actor. Jared listened with interest, he had already considered the fan angle, but dismissed it almost immediately. The content of the notes; the vitriol and hate and the reason for wanting Jensen dead, revenge, not some imagined marriage to a small town girl from the suburbs.

 

“I’m not following the fan route, or even the actor route at first,” Jared offered carefully, noticing Jensen’s frown to Chad, sensing the questions on the actors lips, “this is something bigger, something has happened in the past, in your past, that has meant you have been targeted this way.”

 

“What though, I mean I was a model at like 11, an actor at 15, I haven’t done anything else, I haven’t broken rules, I haven’t killed anyone,” he buried his face in his hands, “I just don’t understand.” There was an uncomfortable silence for a bit, before Jared decided to change direction.

 

“This last letter, another letter, it was more specific, one sentence, ‘All the time I wish it was you that had died’ that seems very specific, the writer wishes you had died, instead of who I wonder? That is the question we need to ask, that is the line of investigation I am following first.

 

Jensen repeated the words slowly and then stood abruptly, the words were so familiar to him, he took the stairs two at a time falling to his knees by the bed in his room, puling out a box, flicking through scripts, old scripts, signed scripts, a pile of his memories, slumping back against the bed as he found what he was looking for.

 

“Talk to me,” Jared said, simply, crossing to sit on the bed.

 

“A pilot I did, Still Life, it was never optioned, not taken up, I filmed like six episodes, I recognised those words, that sentence, it is something Max’s dad says to him… Max, was my character.”

 

“So show me,” Jared held out his hand for the worn script, and Jensen handed it to him, his thumb indicating the line.

 

“I was playing a character, with his brother’s ashes, took them to Paris, never was taken up…” Jensen was aware he was mumbling, lost in his head, his thoughts of who, why and where.

 

“Not taking up, means what, that it wasn’t shown on TV, so access to the script, to the filming, is limited?”

 

Jensen could see where Jared was heading but shook his head, “You Tube,” he said, “its all on You Tube for anyone to see.”

 

Jensen sighed and Jared just nodded, it was more than he had on some cases, this he could do and right now he had phone calls to make

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The drilling was kind of getting to be unbearable; wasn’t it obvious that Jensen had lines to learn, that he needed peace in his own damn house? He wasn’t sure what the hell the cop was up to now, but after trying everything, including wearing his ipod buds to turning up his TV to near maximum he finally huffed out of his room, a frown between his eyes, adjusting to the brightness of the hall after the false gloom of his room with the damned closed curtains.

 

“Jared,” he called down the stairs, his only reply the whine of a drill and the noise of laughter. This time he shouted louder, frustrated and verging on furious as he jumped down the steps and rounded the corner, finding Jared, arms folded, overseeing… well something… some kind of unit in his lobby area. The drilling died off and the guy with the drill leaned over to talk to Jared, Jared nodding at whatever he said and leaning back to look at the wires that trailed across the ceiling, hooked close to the boards and down the wall to the floor before disappearing into a junction box. He seemed happy with what he was looking at, and turned to catch sight of a flustered Jensen staring.

 

”Jensen?” he asked, glancing behind him as the electrician folded the ladder and packed away tools, waiting until it was the two of them in the hall.

 

“What the fuck?” Jensen started, he could patient, he could let Jared have his say first.

 

“Security Jensen, you asked me to set up security.” Jensen frowned, why did Jared sound like he was talking to a five year old?

 

“The noise is intolerable, some off us have lines to learn.” Jensen spat out anger colouring his words red. Jared nodded. He nodded... the bastard. Why was he nodding? Jensen stood quiet, waiting for Jared to say something, not wanting him to get the satisfaction of Jensen having to hold the conversation.

 

“Your gate is screwed,” Jared started conversationally, “I used two different names, neither of them incidentally mine, and I managed to get in through your front door and start eating breakfast in your kitchen. Now tell me Jensen is that acceptable?” Jensen could do nothing other than stand spluttering his disgust at the noise, when the calm rational side of him knew Jared was talking sense.

 

“Well I don’t want any more today.” Jensen ordered, crossing his own arms, reflecting Jared’s relaxed yet stubborn posture.

 

“We’ve finished now.” Jared replied calmly.

 

Great was that was just great. “Well good then,” Jensen said for want of something to say, clearly aware he sounded childish and petulant, and with no more words he returned to his gloomy room, hearing a faint chuckle from behind him. Jared bastard Padalecki.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared called a meeting. Chad had left the night before, going where, Jared wasn’t sure, in fact he wasn’t even sure of Chad’s status in the house, and that worried him. He slid onto the stool, Jim and Rosa bickering over cookies, in the way only a couple could, and still no Jensen, despite having been informed of the meeting. The three sat there, for at least twenty minutes before Rosa started muttering about her boy not usually being like this and what had got into him? Jim wriggled uncomfortably on his stool and Jared just sat patient, cooling his heels, adding points to the against column under Ackles’s name.

 

Finally the man himself arrived into the kitchen, dressed to impress in jeans that probably cost the equivalent of Jared’s monthly pay check, and a dark button down, freshly showered, an eyebrow quirked at the three sitting there looking up at him.

 

“What?” he finally said, his back straightening in reaction to their stares, nervously running a hand over his face and his spiked hair. Jared simply stood and stretched, walking his fingers on the ceiling, then dropping one hand to his waistband and pulling out the gun, casually checking the bullets inside. “Jesus,” Jensen started, then stopped, as, just as casually, Jared replaced the gun and took a step forward.

 

”Where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly, as if Jensen’s reply didn’t matter.

 

“I’m going out with Chris and Steve, lunch…” he started, pausing only when sudden realisation hit him, “…no. No way. You are not coming with me… shit… OK… you can take me and drop me, but you are not coming into the freaking restaurant with me.” Jared just stood, letting Jensen blow off the steam, until finally, with defeat in his posture and casting looks of pleading in Jim’s direction he huffed one word, “fine”.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The car journey was painful, Jared constantly on edge, Jensen sulking, if a thirty one year old could sulk, and every so often passing judgement on the decisions Jared had made.

 

“I wont have you telling them you are a freaking bodyguard.”

 

“I cant believe you have a gun, it’s a freaking restaurant.”

 

“They’re my friends, don’t screw this up”

 

“Drop me at the door.”

 

”On second thoughts, drop me at the back door.”

 

”I have my cell, I’ll call you when I am finished.”

 

Jared ignored it all, just continued to watch, to observe, to see… the very things he was trained to do and as they drew up to where Jensen indicated they should stop, he pulled further away and round the back, cutting short anything Jensen was going to say with a simple curt. “Enough already.”

 

Jensen subsided into a string of curses, which Jared again pointedly ignored, gesturing for Jensen to stay in the car whilst he checked around it. They had ended up in an alley behind the restaurant, parked by the trash cans and the cardboard boxes empty of today’s fruit and vegetables. It smelt and Jensen wrinkled his nose, as Jared opened the door and let him get out, guiding him by the hand to the back door and slipping in after him.

 

Jensen blinked as they found themselves in the kitchen, no one really taking a lot of notice of a network actor and the tall guy dragging him through to the front. It was obviously nothing new, after all this was LA. Finally they made it into the main area and a waiter bustled over, addressing Jensen as Mr Ackles and directing them to a table in the window. Jared stopped Jensen with at tug on his arm.

 

”Not in the window,” he suggested with a low voice, Jensen staring hard, trying to think up a reason why, with someone wanting to kill him it was fine to sit in a window on full view of everyone. He came up empty, god damn it…

 

“Can we sit towards the back?” Jensen asked politely between gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes when Jared tried to hide a smile by turning away. The waiter didn’t seem bothered where they sat, and gestured them to find their own table in amongst a group of tables at the back. Jared pushed forward selecting a table and sliding in, his back to the wall and his vision clear on the rest of the room, Jensen bit his tongue and slid in next to him.

 

They didn’t talk. Jensen felt wrong, like not in his own body, watching Jared watching everyone else, growing more and more uncomfortable.

 

“I don’t need this,” Jensen lurched from irritated to self pitying in the blink of an eye, “I need to stay in the public eye for the right reasons, not the wrong ones. Jim doesn’t get this at all.” Then, just as quickly back to irritated, “You don’t get it, I cant have this shit.”

 

Jared needed to change the subject, he could hold up his end of a conversation if he was really pushed, about most things. “So, these guys you are meeting, tell me more?” Jared interrupted simply, leaving the question wide open and Jensen just looked at him, mouth open, green eyes wide and shocked that his tirade had been cut short. He started to talk again, but Jared just tilted his head in that contained controlled way he had, and whatever Jensen was going to say, as he searched for emotion on Jared’s face to play off against, just fled. He dropped his eyes, shame washing over him at his childish stupidity, but something inside him stopped him from actually apologising. Instead he killed time by twisting the napkin in front of him and sipping ice cold water.

 

“Jensen,” a voice called out and a bundle of energy crossed the restaurant, a shorter man with long hair, trailed by a larger man, this was obviously Chris and Steve. Jared tensed, Jensen saw him tense, willed him to calm down. The two men sat, and they introduced themselves to Jared after Jensen failed to immediately jump in there.

 

“Jared, a friend of Jensen’s from way back.” Jared started simply, deliberately extending his vowels, injecting Texas heat into his voice. This was the back story they had agreed on, staying deliberately vague.

 

“From Texas?” Chris smirked and shook Jared’s hand as he nodded, “Chris, been on a few shows with Jensen, and big boy here, this is my partner, Steve.”

 

As lunch carried on and as jokes and stories were exchanged, Jared started to relax, at least on the outside. Jensen was feeling calmer, it was going OK, he was having lunch with friends he hadn’t seen for a while, talking about music and mutual friends, and Jared was making an effort. In fact it seemed like every time the younger man opened his mouth, Texan nights in every syllable, Jensen was finding himself getting drawn further into the words. Cataloguing the way Jared pushed his long hair from his face, away from his high cheekbones, his hazel eyes sparkling with life as he laughed at something Steve was saying. He squirmed in his seat, his thigh brushing Jared’s. feeling the heat from the touch, and thoughts that really shouldn’t be there started to build in his head. He pulled himself back, it was nice to feel the strength of the younger man with him, he felt kind of safe and protected, and actually for a full ten minutes he wondered what it would be like to have someone else look out for him all the time.

 

That was until the fan who recognised him and rushed excitedly towards the table happened, her voice high pitched and her squealing sudden.

 

“Oh my god,” she cried excitedly, rummaging in her bag, and looking at Jensen, “it’s you… I love your show…”, someone was behind her, a taller man, a smile on his face as he reached into his jacket pocket and Jared launched. In the blink of eye the man was twisted round, his hand behind his back, and the woman was mute in shock, held tight in Jared’s strong grip.

 

“I was getting a pen…” the man was shouting, “…a damn pen.”

 

“Jared, for fucks sake,” That was Jensen’s voice and Chris was trying to pull Jared off, he was shouting too, there was noise, confusion, and then Jared felt the guy’s jacket, was certain then, that there was no danger. Standing away from the man, he even helped him steady on his feet, pulling him up, Steve the other side.

 

“My apologies sir,” Jared started, flashing a badge and letting the guy assume it was LAPD, “we had reports…” he added vaguely, mollifying the other man, taking in Jensen’s shock and the looks Chris and Steve were exchanging. He nodded to Chris and grabbed at Jensen’s arm, pulling him towards the back of the restaurant and out the way they came.

 

“The autograph,” Jensen began weakly, “the bill” he added, in a daze pushed into the car and watching at the restaurant disappeared in the rear view mirror. His cell rang, and he looked at the screen, pressing to accept the call. “Chris… bodyguard… I don’t know… OK… I’ll phone.” Then closing his eyes he began to work up a head of steam.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Chris handed over his card to cover lunch and the damages, what little there was, it seemed like this Jared guy, this bodyguard, worked very effectively. He managed to persuade the couple that his autograph, Kane tickets and a back pass to the studio was enough to make it all better and they left not mentioning a lawyer at all, they weren’t hurt, just shocked.

 

Chris and Steve left the restaurant, Christian Kane on the phone to someone, sounding agitated, so many questions, Steve Carlson watching.

 

He watched them leave.

 

His beard hid his features, his eyes thoughtful, watching the interaction between the two men and he shivered with the disgust he felt as Steve pulled at Chris’s hand, gathering the shorter man into a hug.

 

They had nothing to do with what Jensen had done.

 

But if they, or this cop, this tall guy, got in his way, got between him and Jensen, then he couldn’t help what happened.

 

Couldn’t help it at all.


	5. Chapter 5

“Pull. Over.”

 

Jared just ignored the actor and his petulant demands. There was no way he was giving in and pulling over despite the open hostility emanating from the actor at his side, to pull over meant leaving his charge vulnerable, he wasn’t going to do that.

 

“Pull. Over. The. Damn. Car.”

 

Jared frowned, the sedan three cars behind, it wasn’t exactly following them, but something about it’s pattern of movement was off and the prickle at the back of his neck was telling him to trust his instincts.

 

“If you don’t pull this car over in the next thirty seconds…” Jensen twisted in his seat, grabbing a handful of Jared’s shirt and yanking hard. Jared briefly looked down and then up, eyes back on the road.

 

“Or what Ackles?” he said quietly, his hands firm on the wheel, his concentration hard on the way ahead, every so often casting glances in his rear view mirror. He ignored what the navigation system was saying and turned left, the guy three cars behind talking the same left. Jared sat straighter in his seat, tuning out Jensen’s anger, the fizzing popping fury that was almost tangible beside him. He took a right, a quick right, causing Jensen to slump towards him, shoulders touching, it didn’t stop his tirade however. One more turn and Jared breathed a sigh of relief as the car behind them went past them and straight on.

 

“I mean it cop…” Jensen spat out, “pull over the fucking car you son of a bitch before I … open the door…”

 

“Jesus Ackles,” Jared swore, catching the idiot actor wrestling with the handle amidst images of him jumping out of the car like some kind of god damn action movie hero.

 

Trying to gauge where exactly they were now, he pulled the car to one side on the path, off road, at the entrance to an alley, tall apartment buildings surrounding them. It seemed like the truck had barely stopped before Jensen was out, standing by the door, his hands clenched into fists at his side. Jared scrambled out, grabbing the keys out of the ignition, his other hand going to the gun in the small of his back as he scanned the area.

 

“What the fuck?” Jared spat out; hand still on his gun, watching as Jensen stalked around the car towards him.

 

“I said I wanted none of that shit. I said that, did you not hear me, were you not listening? Who the hell do you think you are cop? You made a fool out of me, made me look like some kind of god damn girl in front of my friends. Do you even have an idea of the concept of people suing me, or of photos that appear in the paper?” Each point was punctuated with a push at Jared, Jensen’s hands flat on his chest, Jared standing his ground, his face carefully blank, his growing temper held in check. “I don’t need you, I don’t want you and your macho posturing, and your gun, and the whole lets jump random members of the public shit.”

 

“This is not the place to be doing this.” Jared said calmly, pushing the words into a break in Jensen’s tirade.

 

“Not the place?” Jensen seemed incredulous, furious, “NOT THE FREAKING PLACE?” Now he was shouting, any thought of outward appearances disappearing in the heat and passion of his temper. “I tell you, you… you… if you have ruined my chance at the role I was going for, if you have screwed my fucking career with your shit - ” Another push…

 

“Push all you want, it’s not gonna make me react any different.” Jared warned, voice low, posture solid.

 

“You asshole, don’t you get it, I don’t want people knowing I need someone like you. You know Raimi isn’t gonna want some pansy ass actor on his next film.”

 

“Or indeed a gay one I assume,” Jared snapped back, almost immediately regretting even opening his mouth, not sure what it was about this man who stood in front of him that reduced him to bickering.

 

Jensen pushed him again, emphasising the point and it was then that Jared cracked, grabbing at the offending hands and holding them tight. Jensen tried to pull back, but Jared’s large hands engulfed his and there was no way he could get loose. Sudden fear shot through Jenesen, and finally it seemed he became aware of his surroundings, facing down 220lbs of muscle in an alleyway out of sight of anyone.

 

Jared leaned in, his face inches from Jensen’s, so close Jensen could feel his breath on his face, a mix of coffee and mint, “Get back in the car before I shoot you myself,” Jared spat out, suddenly releasing Jensen’s hands and causing the shorter man to stumble back against the door of the truck.

 

Jensen stood mutinous for a short while, his chest heaving with anger, twin flags of colour high on his cheeks, and then he visibly drew in a deep breath and stalked angrily round the truck to his side, slipping in and shutting the door with more force than was necessary, his eyes set to the right at the wall outside, staring moodily out of the window.

 

Jared sighed, pulled a hand through his long hair, loose about his shoulders, and climbed back into his seat, shutting his door with deliberate care.

 

“Belt,” he ordered firmly, and despite the level of anger in the car, Jensen pulled his belt over him and Jared relaxed slightly when the clunk of the belt connecting resonated in the cab. The last thing he needed now was childish attitude and petulant anger leading to his charge taking a dive through the windshield.

 

The drive the rest of the way home wasn’t long but it was the most uncomfortable ten minutes of Jared's life. He was constantly checking in the mirror, no sign of the car following, and Jensen was rigid and prickly in his seat, knuckles white gripping at the belt. When they arrived home it was like deja vu, Jensen out of the car before it had even properly stopped, disappearing in to the house, Jared following more slowly.

 

Jared made his way to the kitchen, pouring a coffee from the filter that never seemed to empty, and leaned back against the work surface, wondering how long it would be before the shit really hit the fan. It didn’t take long.

 

“I’m in the office,” Jensen announced at the door, his face dark and pushed into a frown, his arms folded across his chest.

 

“And I’m in the kitchen,” Jared snapped back, sipping at the cooling coffee and looking at Jensen over the rim, seeing heat and anger building in his green eyes.

 

“I was waiting to talk.” Jensen was trying hard for the big boss attitude, but it really didn’t sit well with a frustrated Jared.

 

“I’m done talking. You wanna get shot, you don’t wanna take this seriously, then be my guest, cos…” he placed his coffee carefully on the side and started to walk towards Jensen, “… I quit”, he moved forward slowly, and Jensen found himself shrinking back against the cool wall, taking in Jared’s clenched fists and barely restrained anger. The sudden thought hit him that Jared was going to use his strength, his fists and he breathed in, waiting for the punch, but nothing happened as Jared merely brushed past him and climbed the stairs.

 

It was all Jensen could do not to follow him shouting the odds, but there was something about Jared, about the aura around him, on the edge, Jensen thought it was probably wise to skip the chat until Jared had calmed down. Then Jensen could talk to him about the do’s and don’ts and Jared would just damn well have to listen. Satisfied that he had a plan of sorts he went back into the office, logging on to email and scribbling notes on a piece of scrap paper about exactly what his bodyguard could or couldn’t do. He had the usual emails; one from Josh, full of the usual stories and news, which he printed to read later, a couple of emails from friends, one from costume who wanted to know his opinions of shorts, shorts for god's sake, and a few others that he just deleted into his spam folder. That left one, intriguingly titled, ‘script, you then him’, he didn’t recognise the sender but he was often sent unsolicited scripts. why he didnt stop to think he would never know, today, in his temper, it didn’t even cross his mind to think that, unsolicited or not, emails were usually diverted to him through WB, and this email address he didn't know. He opened the email and scanned the attachment.

 

That is when it all went to shit.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared couldn’t believe that he was actually muttering under his breath as he dialled Lehne and patiently waited for a connection. The actor was really not getting it, had no idea what the real world was like, with psychos on every corner. He was a walking advert for ‘shoot me now’ and Jared was not going to hang around any longer for any more of this shit. Lehne answered with his usual gruff ‘what’ and Jared just said three words.

 

“I’m coming home.”

 

Lehne sighed, “we are so close Padalecki to ending this and pulling your ass out of the fire, don’t make me have LAPD arrest you to keep you away.”

 

“Jeez, this isn’t a bodyguard job, it’s a case, and you damn well knew it when you hooked me up with the Princess.”

 

“I don’t see the problem, you’re a cop, go solve the case.”

 

“Murder…” Jared offered carefully.

 

“You think this actor is involved in murder?” Lehne sounded incredulous.

 

”No, I seriously think that I am going to murder him.” Jared huffed, pacing his smaller room, and frowning at the low chuckle he heard down the line, Lehne was clearly not taking him seriously.

 

“Get on with the case, leave the big boy stuff to us and keep your damn fool head down.” Lehne strung the instructions together with an edge of woory in his voice, and it was all Jared could do not to drop a few choice swear words into the conversation. Instead he just ended the call abruptly and dropped the cell onto his bed.

 

A knock on his open door and Jared turned steeling himself for a another round of Ackles, only to find Jim hovering uncertainly on the threshold “Jared,” he started, taking in the open bag on the bed and the tangle of clothes and personal items being packed inside, “we have a problem. It’s Jensen.”

 

Jared sighed, what did the princess want now? "I’m going Jim, I cant be responsible for his ass when he wont listen to me and just fights me every step of the way, cos, man, he’ll end up killing us both.”

 

“It’s not that, tho, I didn’t know you were going, he hasn’t said, in fact he hasn’t said anything. He’s locked himself in the office and he wont come out.”

 

Jared sighed, more teenage girl shit, “did he break a nail?” Jared sniped, clearly not in the mood for any more.

 

“He needs you Jared.”

 

He needs me like he need a hole in the head,” Jared commented, then smirked as he realised what he said, without Jared there the princess was just as likely to get a hole in the head as one in the gut or the chest.

 

Jim sighed, worry in his voice. “He wont come out, he got some emails, can you just see if you can get him out?”

 

”Emails?” that piqued Jared's interest, the cop in him thoughtful.

 

“That is what he said before he shut the door on me.”

 

Emails, this was new, if these emails were from the stalker… Jared needed to look at them… momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be leaving, and following Jim down the stairs, knocking on the door.

 

“Jensen, let me in.” Nothing, silence, not even a go away. Jared tried the door, as Jim said, locked or barred somehow. “Let me in Jensen, or I’ll kick the door in.” he said clearly, mentally giving himself a countdown of ten to take it to the next stage.

 

He got to four, when the lock snicked and the door opened slightly, Jared slipping inside, Jensen’s back to him, and the PC screen blue in the dim room. “Show me,” he asked firmly, grabbing at the paper that Jensen handed him, a print of an email, a picture.

 

A picture of Jared and Jensen standing on the porch that first day, a black cross through each face and the simple words…

 

First you. Then him.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

They settled into an uncomfortable truce, Jared not leaving, Jensen not mentioning it, in fact neither really talking at all. Jared knew Jensen spoke to Chris and Steve on the phone, but other than that he didn’t really connect with anyone, even Chad had ben conspicuosly absent. The actor spent a lot of time in the gym in the basement, and Jared slipped into the habit of exercising at the same time as Jensen did, spotting him for benching and generally hanging around.

 

The piss and vinegar seemed to have drained from Jensen, almost like he was under house arrest, playing the victim like the best part he had ever had. Jared had the touch of madness, he wanted, more than anything, to be in New York, finding out who was trying to frame him, and tense that he was so far away and it annoyed him out that he was no closer to identyfying the stalker here in LA.

 

He spent his time doing an awful lot of researching and looking at Jensen, trying to reconcile the snarky actor with the person he was starting to see emerge. His research pulled up a lot, getting a tech expert in his home precinct back in Dallas to look at the emails. Reading through other emails he had been sent, nothing awful, all fairly innocent, the email from the stalker had seemingly been the first and the last to Jensen’s inbox. From the emails he added a few names to his list of names to be checked, sending them off to the colleagues back in Dallas to check.

 

One name stood out. Josh.

 

“His brother,” Jim confirmed when Jensen asked, “all that’s left. He’s older than Jensen, and his mom and dad and his sister, they all died in a car wreck when Jensen had just started his acting on the soap. Josh was in college, Jensen paid for the rest of his time there, then Josh enlisted, he’s an army officer, in Afghanistan at the moment. They email, but he hasn’t managed to get home yet, though I think he has leave soon, they are incredibly close, Jensen never really talks about him to outsiders. It is his private side.”

 

Jared filed away the information, knowing he wanted to hear this from Jensen’s mouth, and wondering why he felt the urge to have a deep and meaningful confirmation with the man who pressed every one of his irritation buttons.

 

Jared decided it was maybe it was something to do with the eyes. The other man’s eyes, they told the truth when his body lied, when his mouth couldn’t say what he wanted to say. Jared felt those eyes on him, watching him when he was exercising, because to be honest... somehow... he was watching back.

 

He wasn’t sure at what point Jensen had turned from Ackles to Jensen, couldn’t really pin it down to one moment. He guessed it was something to do with the whole looking but no touching thing, that Jared was also fighting, meaning the tension when they were together was getting more and more intense. Jared never actually came out to Jensen, not in the strict sense of the word, but they had talked over coffee every now and then, Jared mentioning past boyfriends, it was a way to fill the time, exploring snippets of each other's past. It seemed like as soon as Jensen knew about that facet of Jared he backed off, started avoiding talking about things that would lead to exes.

 

Jared was stepping back, deliberately tring not to start arguments, not rising to the sarcasm that Jensen wielded like a sword, just doing his job. He knew there was only two days until the upfronts, knew that after that they could maybe leave LA, find somewhere quiet where they could actually get out of the house.

 

At the same time, he contemplated the other man from his sitting on the fence point of view on sex, and laughed inwardly. He knew for sure, that if he actually did anything like he wanted to, after watching the actor in ragged shorts and a T.thinks on the running machine, he’d probably scare the shit out of the pretty boy. So he kept it in his pants, despite the whole issue of proximity.

 

They still bickered and sniped, but it had shifted somehow, the whole house arrest thing, the emails, Jensen being scared, it built to a reluctant trust. They still spent a lot of time in separate rooms, Jared hiding in the kitchen, reading, and Jensen on his laptop, but every so often thet came together to talk.

 

It was the day before the upfronts that it all started to disintegrate, the fragile balance between star and bodyguard and brand new friendship starting to shift and sheer as Jared began to worry and Jensen began to fear.

 

They met in the gym. Neither said a word. Jared pushing himself hard, Jensen doing the same. It only stopped when Jensen winced and Jared caught the tail end of the pain in Jensen’s face. He was benching far too much, as far as Jared was concerned, it was inevitable that the guy was going to hurt himself, and he took the weight, carefully placing them on the rest bar, holding out a hand and gripping Jensen’s to help him to his feet.

 

“I’m not stopping,” Jensen was adamant, pulling on Jared’s hand to release the hold, “Jeez, let go,” he added verging on angry.

 

“Give it up man - ”

 

“I am not a girl.”

 

“I wasn’t saying that, know your limits, don’t lose sight of that just ‘cos you are pissed.”

 

“I can freaking press as much as you can.” Jensen suddenly pointed out, immediately wishing he hadn’t as Jared’s face turned from worried to confused and then to annoyed.

 

“Jeez Ackles, I am six foot freaking five, I have maybe 30lb on you, I have spent the last year undercover in a gym for fucks sake, stop with this ridiculous one upmanship.” Jensen curled up from the bench, irrational anger making him bristle with righteous indignation and he clambered to stand in front of his nemesis.

 

Jared wanted to continue, wanted to say, why are you pushing so hard man?, but he was stood inches from him, Jensen’s body sheened with sweat, his breathing harsh with temper and his eyes sparking fire, and something inside of Jared just snapped.

 

In an flurry of movement, Jared had him pushed against the wall, Jensen’s hands caught in his and forced high above his head, his Jesus gorgeous lips caught in a kiss of desperate want, nips and bites forcing those same lips open on a pained gasp as Jared slid and pushed and took. Jensen struggled to free his hands, hard in seconds that this giant was holding him so easily, forcing him up on his toes, aligning them. It was nothing more than sensation, lust, a peak of intense need that brought them together and it blew Jensen’s mind.

 

He felt Jared release the grip on his hands, knew that now he could push away if he wanted to, trusted that Jared would let him go on the same knife edge as having no choice but to stay.

 

“Tell me to stop…” Jared was half pleading for Jensen to stop this, knowing it was wrong, could be nothing more than releasing tension. His hands gripped into Jensen’s aching muscles, a band of bruises on his upper arm, feeling the slick of sweat, so hard against each other, eyes half open in heated lust. Jensen moved his hands, dropping them, twisting them into long chestnut hair, pushing down to virtually climb Jared’s hard body.

 

“No, no stopping,” he groaned, his mouth kiss biting at sun darkened skin, the taste of Jared overwhelming as he slick slipped against the other man, Jared’s hands, so confident, so strong, moving to dig into his thighs, spreading his legs, and forcing a whimper from his mouth as their hard dicks rhythm pressed to completion.

 

Jared came first, the writhing heat in his hold intoxicating, pushing him over the edge like a horny teenager, curses spilling from his mouth onto Jensen’s skin, until he felt Jensen arch into his hold, a cry from his mouth, and a slump as orgasm ripped through him with the speed of a forest fire.

 

They stayed. Jared supporting Jensen’s weight, realisation hitting them both at the same time. Stumbling Jared stood back, come cooling against his heated skin, leaving Jensen to slide down the wall to his knees on the floor. Instant regret flooded Jared, this wasn’t right, this was so wrong, this was the man he was supposed to be protecting…

 

Jensen looked up, his face relaxed, his eyes bright with unshed tears, one word, “Jared?”

 

Oxygen left Jared in a rushed breath as he staggered back, feeling the solid bench behind him. “Shit,” he said, so many emotions tumbling and turning in his head.

 

It took him seconds to leave the gym, near running to his room, and standing with his back against his shut door, his eyes closed. It took just those few seconds of choice to leave the actor, finger shaped bruises on his pale freckled skin marking what they had just done. Just seconds.

 

Shit


	6. Chapter 6

Jared was halfway packed to run before he stopped. Just stopped.

 

Stopped and then slumped onto his bed, the complete horror of what he had just done flooding him and connecting on the upshift with the fuckhotrightnow of what had just happened. He closed his eyes, but all he saw, burnt onto his retinas, was the images of Jensen losing it in his arms, all hot sweat and lust. He would never be able to get that image out of his mind; he was already hard in his jeans just at the thought of it, let alone the remote possibility of doing the whole thing again.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jensen’s voice at the door and Jared opened his eyes carefully, not quite sure where to look but in the end staring directly into sad green eyes.

 

“Sorry?” Jared said, simply for something to say, his voice croaky, but it seemed to be what Jensen needed to hear as he crossed to stand in front of him forcing Jared to look up. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Jared finished, shaking his head and lowering his gaze, shifting uncomfortably as Jensen crouched in front of him, looking up and under his long hair.

 

”I couldn’t stop. Jared… I couldn’t stop even if I had tried. So, yes, I am sorry.” Jared was again lost for words, swallowing, and wondering why it was so damned hard to see Jensen on the floor in front of him, right between his open legs, hands hard and warm on his knees. He swallowed as another surge of lust climbed his spine, and he shifted uncomfortably as his jeans started to feel one hell of a lot tighter. Jensen was obviously waiting for him to say something, possibly something profound, together, meaningful.

 

“I couldn’t have stopped either,” Jared eventually offered, the truth was the best way in his opinion. How the hell could he even begin to explain the desperation, the need he had had at that time for the man in front of him. To remember the feel of him, climbing him, pushing down, gripping hard onto his long hair, making Jared react, shit, how many more times was he going to be replaying that in his head.

 

“Please then… don’t let it get in the way.” Jensen pleaded softly. “Don’t go.”

 

“Go?” Of course he wasn’t going, what did Jensen mean, with the… “Oh.” he said softly, “I wasn’t going to go, not really, I packed, I was…” his voice tailed off, there wasn’t really a rational explanation for why he had started packing. Fear maybe. Fear that he had exposed himself too much… maybe overstepped the bounds in this strange relationship they had. He shook himself mentally; this wasn’t good, Jensen sitting on the floor on his knees with innocence shining in his eyes. Did he not realise what it was doing to Jared, digging and undermining his cop's distance, his ability to isolate himself from the case he was working. It wasn’t right, to lose his clinical objectivity, it would leave Jensen vulnerable if he took his eyes off of the ball.

 

If only he had actually made some headway into tracking down the stalker; if only one of the names he had highlighted, one person from Jensen’s past, or from his present had actually been shown to have a reason to harm the actor. It frustrated the hell out of Jared, the inactivity, the waiting, when he had statistics in his head that wouldn’t leave him. He knew that over sixty percent of male victims knew their stalker; half of those were actually stalked by an intimate partner or ex.

 

Which made it easy for Jared to place his first guess on the elusive Chad, but jeez, the man was squeaky clean, running anti drugs programmes for kids and handing over thousands of dollars to charity. It was obvious he was carrying a torch for Jensen, but seriously there was nothing Jared could pin on him. If he was really honest he didn’t sense a vibe of passionate hate that the author of some of these notes had to have had to write them. He had dismissed Jim, and Rosa, and nearly all of the three hundred odd names that was on his list. It had been uncomfortable asking Jensen questions about exes, and some of the indiscretions that had happened over the fifteen years that Jim had covered up. Typical horny gay guy hook-ups that would pass unnoticed in normal life, but framed by the excesses of Hollywood, could be enough to kill Jensen’s career completely. Jared had followed them each up, thanking the heavens for the Internet, and his connection in Dallas, but each man, and woman, from Jensen’s past, had been a dead end. He hated that this man in front of him was so scared that he had dropped to his knees to beg this scarred cop to stay, and a flush of that anger slid into the mask he had in place over his face.

 

Jensen reacted instantly, seeing the anger, and immediately regretting the impulse that had sent him chasing after Jared. Shame flooded him as he made to stand stopped only by a hand on his shoulder, a grip to the tension that was tight in his neck. He frowned into Jared’s face, hazel eyes locked on his, and he saw compassion in there that unbalanced him, made him want to say something, anything. Instead he hid behind the inherent shame that was at his core and let words spill over into heated nonsense.

 

“I don’t give a rats ass if you stay or go,” he started, a layer of belligerence in his voice, “I handled shit before and I can handle it again.” He tried to shrug off Jared’s hand but, jeez, the cop had a grip.

 

“Jensen I am not going anywhere, lets get this thing done yeah?” His large hand slid up to cradle Jensen’s head, a flicker of annoyance sparking through Jensen as he listened to Jared’s calming words. That this man had the ability to push through Jensen’s barriers was both unnerving and exhilarating at the same time. Jared shifted forward, his face inches from Jensen’s, seeing the uncertainty in the other man, the irritation. Gently, very gently, he leaned the final inch, Jensen pulled in by the spark of anticipation, the echoes of the sudden and intense lust still suspended between them, and they touched lips. It wasn’t heat, it was a connection, and Jensen shut his eyes, angling his head just to feel more of Jared’s soft lips as they passed a slick of warmth against his. They exchanged soft kisses, a connection they didn’t have downstairs where it had just been heated gasps of raw need into each other’s mouths and no more.

 

Jared pulled back. “Didn’t you say I needed something other that jeans and a T to wear to the thing.” Jared said softly, “Wanna get out?” A smile broke Jensen’s face as he opened his expressive green eyes. Get out, did Jared really mean that? After enforced house arrest for nearly a week, was it really safe to go outside? Jared must think it would be OK, otherwise he wouldn’t have been cruel enough to throw it out there, would he?

 

“Hell yeah” was all Jensen could say.

 

Jared drew the truck back to the door and Jensen scrambled in with half fear and half excitement in his eyes. With hardly any words exchanged and following Jensen’s instructions they parked to the rear of a nondescript building, one of many similar standing tall from an alley, and clambered out to enter the back door.

 

Jensen was like this overgrown kid, pushing past boxes and into a small room with another door out, which Jared guessed was into the front of the shop, or wherever Jensen had gleefully guided him.

 

“What is this place?”

 

“Chris’s” Jensen said, taking out his cell and thumbing his contacts, holding the cell to his ear and just saying a few words, out back man…

 

“Chris?” Jared put two and two together almost immediately, and he shifted on the balls of his feet, instantly very aware of who was coming through that door and readying every instinct in defense in a kind of autopilot response. What actually came through the door was five ten of muscled he-cat, lips pulled back in a snarl, hands clenched in loose fists and eyebrows drawn together in a frown. Jensen shifted slightly, placing himself between Chris and Jared, completely aware that after the whole restaurant debacle Chris had been biding his time until he could talk to Jared face to face.

 

“Chris, it’s cool dude, seriously.” Jensen placated. They had spoken over the phone, Chris angry at Jensen being manhandled that way at the same time as being in complete shock that his friend even needed a bodyguard. They had gone over every inch of it and come up blank, they couldn’t think of any reason why someone would want to hurt Jensen, let alone kill him. The anxiety in Chris was way to the surface now and he shoved Jensen, no mean feat, to one side, in a face off with the man who had shattered the peace of their closed little world so brutally the week before.

 

“You promise me one thing bodyguard...” he emphasised the last word with a sneer, poking at Jared’s hard chest with a single finger, Jared was getting damn tired of people poking at him, but he stood impassive, letting the fire in the shorter man’s eyes bank down from anger to concern. “...you find this stalker, this person who wants to hurt Jensen, or you do your job… yeah… if someone comes for him… you take that bullet for him.”

 

Silence.

 

Chris visibly vibrated with emotion and a stunned Jensen gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, of all the things for Chris to say, he chose to say this? Yeah Jared was his bodyguard, and yeah, he guessed at the end of the day it was his job to put his body in the way if needed. But. Shit. Jensen had focused so long and hard on the whole cop investigation stroke protector thing that he hadn’t even thought about a worse case scenario.

 

“He’s not…” he started, spluttering and stuttering over the words, cut off as Jared raised a hand and carefully pushed Chris’ pointing finger away from poking at his chest.

 

“I will do my job.” He said simply and Jensen subsided in a shocked daze as Chris and Jared stared each other down, the face off only stopping as finally Chris nodded, obviously satisfied with what he saw in Jared’s eyes.

 

“Jeez.” Was all Jensen could say, blinking and looking at first a half smiling Chris and then at a blank faced Jared, the testosterone in the room swirling around them like a tangible cloud of man.

 

“Clothes then,” Chris finally said, sidling past the immovable object that was a granite Jared, “all up in the top room, everything you ordered, or rather, everything I ordered. There must be something up there for the cop.” Glancing back he waited for Jensen and Jared to follow, raising eyebrows when neither of them moved, sighing when he started to climb the steep stairs to the top floor stockroom, and giving them five to follow. They were behind him in two.

 

What Jared was faced when he entered the room, no bigger than ten by ten, walled on one side with boxes, was enough to send him running for the hills. A mountain of denim, a tumble of Tshirts, a valley created by jackets and shoes and boots and other doodads he wasn’t ready to identify. Chris rummaged, waving denim in Jared’s face and it was all Jared could do not to turn about and run, dragging Jensen with him.

 

Chris dresses me you know,” Jensen started eagerly, “and he has all this stuff in for you, like you know, being really tall.” With this Jensen started rummaging himself, pulling out a black T, and whistling low, “you got Karl to send you this?”

 

“Yeah, new collection, might be a bit tight on the cop, but hey, freebies, well, they’re free so erm… yeah.” Chris was slowly backing to the door as Jensen was enthusiastically sorting through clothes, he could see real fear in Jared’s eyes, and he wanted out as soon as, before Jared turned on him in a flash of demin and cotton.

 

Carefully he pulled the door shut behind them, so wishing he had a camera set up in the store room, this would be a recording for prosperity…

 

“Jensen you said clothes.” Jared started helplessly, listening as Jensen sighed happily over a particularly awful chartreuse button down with, jeez, ribbon on the sleeve. “Clothes for one night… black slacks… a shirt…”

 

“Nuh huh,” Jensen said ripping at plastic with his perfect teeth, pulling an off-white button down out of it’s protective layer and eyeing it critically in the light. He nodded absently and scrambled to stand, pulling at dark slacks in one hand and holding out the off white material in the other. “Strip.” He ordered, and Jared looked round the room, hoping against hope that a changing room would magically appear. It wasn’t that he was nervous, but after this morning, he was struggling to get a handle on his erection, his dick seeming to have a life of it’s own in the vicinity of green eyes. Gritting his teeth his did as he was told, taking the pistol from it’s space at the small of his back, toeing off his boots and easing worn jeans over his hips and down his legs to pool in old denim on the floor. He held out his hand for the pants, glad his Nike Tshirt was long enough to cover his groin area, but Jensen shook his head and indicated it should all come off.

 

Jared sighed and pulled the red Tshirt over his head, until he stood there clad only in black jersey boxers and mismatched thinning socks, thankful he hadn’t gone commando after the whole gym thing this morning. Half smiling Jensen handed the pants over first, and muttering under his breath Jared pulled the material up and over his legs and, hooking the clip, pulled up the zipper. They fit well. Kind of higher past the hips than his butter soft jeans, but they still made him feel like he should be buying Jensen a corsage and planning a prom night. He wriggled uncomfortable in the restricting material and, irritated, held out his hand for the off white shirt that Jensen immediately handed him; the smirk Jensen had had on his face to start with had been replaced by something infinitely darker and more predatory. Jared slipped his hands through the open sleeves of the shirt and shrugged the cool cotton material onto his back, wincing as a label dug into his neck and stretching to pull the material in place, dropping his head to concentrate on the tiny, shit, miniscule buttons that needed feeding through tiny, shit, really tiny, button holes. He didn’t even hear Jensen move until he was pushed off balance tumbling back on to a sea of designer material with a whumph and a strangled moan, as in a single flurry of motion Jensen pulled at the pants and boxers Jared was wearing and had his mouth, there, in seconds. Jared didn’t even have time for his famed cat-like reflexes to kick in before he was arching his back into the hot wet cavern of Jensen’s mouth.

 

There was no finesse, nothing slow about what Jensen was doing, his hand, spit slick at the base of Jared’s dick, his mouth sealed over the tip, moving to touch his hand on the downsweep and sucking as he pulled up, only the very tip in his mouth, his tongue pressing against the slit, his eyes open and focused on Jared as the younger man keened and tried to push up into his mouth. They had nothing here to use, no slick, no condoms, nothing that meant this could go further, but Jensen had to say it, had to let Jared know what he was feeling, what he needed.

 

He raised his head, lips wet, eyes blown wide with lust, “when we get back, I need you to fuck me,” he announced, brooking no argument, giving Jared no time to respond before sliding his fucking hot mouth over the edge of Jared’s dick and swallowing him down as far as he could, alternating the movement, twisting his hand, feeling the blood engorging his lover. He used his other hand, kneeling higher and arching over Jared, free fingers caressing Jared’s balls and further back, exploratory. Nothing too deep or too hard, but enough to cause Jared to shout,muffled against his fist as the actions and the words and the sudden fuck right now hit him faster than a freight train and he came hot and wet and urgently-sudden down Jensen’s throat. Jensen taking it all and kitten licking his way down to clear up every drop, a satisfied smile on his face.

 

“We are taking those pants and that shirt.” Jensen said breathing hard as he climbed Jared’s body to lean over his blissed out bodyguard, dropping a heated kiss on half open lips, watching as the clearly boneless Jared lifted a hand to reach for Jensen and swatting it away, “not now, at whatever place we end up, after the Up-fronts, you fucking me. Yeah?” His voice was low and controlled as Jared nodded, moving the hand up and away from Jensen’s groin and into the actor’s short hair, twisting strands round his fingers and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

 

“After the Up-fronts…” he murmured between kisses, “…after.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The planning was meticulous as befitted his experience. He wasn’t letting anything go to chance. Every part of the rifle was cleaned and oiled, every mechanism cleanly sliding, he was ready, physically strong even if his head was so full of the noise and the panic and the blood.

 

Jensen would be with his friends tomorrow, his peers, and none of them knew what he had done. As far as they were concerned he was Jensen Ackles the actor, not Jensen Ackles the murderer. It was time they all knew the thing that he had done. It was time to take him, and this cop that followed him like a puppy, out in a surgical move.

 

His face twisted in a sneer, poor little Jensen, he was probably so scared, scared of what was watching him from the shadows.

 

He should be.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen waited at the bottom of the stairs tapping his hand on the banister. If Jared wasn’t down in the next thirty seconds then he would have to go up and get him himself. He had a foot on the first step when Jared finally appeared at the top and Jensen literally swallowed his tongue. Who knew the already hot cop could scrub up to be this perfect specimin of gorgeousness currently descending his stairs, nervously pulling at cuffs wide on his wrists. He looked up at as he neared the bottom catching Jensen’s open admiration and god dammit a blush started to rise on his cheeks. Jared Padalecki never blushed.

 

“Stop staring,” he grumped.

 

“You brush up good cop.” Jensen offered smiling over the anxiety that churned in his stomach.

 

“You’re not too bad yourself Ackles.” Jared retorted with a smirk, reaching back to check the placement of his pistol one last time, ensuring it was snug against his spine. Neither of them actually talked about what tonight was going to be like, what each other feared. It was enough that Jared had been to the venue in the morning, a nervous Jensen at his side. It was enough that Jared seemed confident, that Jensen could hide his fear and that Jared was armed.

 

Just for tonight it was enough that they were together.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

And so he waited. The green screen in place now, people nodding to him as he stood waiting.

 

Everything was ready to go


	7. Chapter 7

Jared tried to make small talk in the car, tried hard to get Jensen to focus on something other than the threat he had hanging over him.

 

“So about Chris…” he began conversationally, “…when he introduced himself at the restaurant he said he had been in a couple of shows with you, but then, he was at the clothes… thing.” Jensen blushed; honest to goodness blushed, which whilst that wasn’t the way Jared expected to take Jensen mind off of things, it seemed to work.

 

”It’s Steve’s,” Jensen offered, “he’s a designer, and a part time musician, and Chris and him are partners, and Chris is an actor, but hangs around Steve a lot. I kinda thought it might be Chris that was gonna be there though for the whole clothes thing.”

 

“To tell me to do my job.” Jared nodded. He hadn’t actually been offended that Chris was worried enough about Jensen to poke at him in the hallway, demanding he put himself between Jensen and a bullet. In fact he had admired the man’s loyalty. “Did you and he ever…” Jared deliberately left the question hanging; Chris hadn’t been on the list of exes that Jensen had given him, but Jensen just shook his head, an almost smirk across his face.

 

“Nor Steve, before you ask.”

 

It carried on like that. Small questions about Jensen, about his life, his friends, little bits and pieces that had slipped through the screening Jared had done in the beginning. He knew Jensen had a brother, knew his parents and sister were gone, in some kind of accident, knew his brother was overseas, knew they were close. But as Jensen talked animatedly about his big brother, it reminded Jared of the close relationship he had with his own brother, and he felt a pang of loss. He hadn’t seen his family in over a year, all the time he was undercover, or before and after; so immersed in his ‘character’ in this drug-dealing persona had he been. The thought of tarnishing his family with that, was not one he even entertained.

 

“He’s coming home, in ten days.” Jensen said softly, his eyes focused on a fixed point outside the car.

 

“Josh is?”

 

“Yeah, he’s ended his second tour, only ten more days and he is coming home.”

 

Jared thought of his brother, the accountant, and his sister, still in college, and nodded thoughtfully, “it must be hard having your only family in a war zone.” He offered gently, shifting in his seat to briefly touch fingers to Jensen’s leg, a simple and welcomed gesture of understanding.

 

Jensen leaned towards him in a small press of his shoulder to Jared's.“ Turns out, as it is, I am not sure I want him here with me, with all this shit hanging over my head.” he said thoughtfully, his face carefully blank.

 

“We wont be here Jensen, after tonight you have three weeks until filming starts, Jim wants to… I want to… get you away from LA, maybe go up to Vancouver early, or find some safe house somewhere you can hide out whilst I keep digging.”

 

“Leave me somewhere you mean?” Jensen asked, hurt in his voice, definite hurt. So much for not talking about the elephant in the corner. Seems maybe they did need to talk. Jared sighed, knowing this was going to be difficult to make Jensen see. This was something that was meant to wait until after the Up-fronts, not something that should be discussed now.

 

“Not leave you as such. Make sure you are safe. The notes are ramping it up, the emails, this isn’t good, I have never seen anything like it Jensen, and it needs to stop. It is my job to keep you safe, and I don’t feel that safety for you at the moment.”

 

Silence, for some time, a good five minutes Jensen sat quietly, his face creased in a frown, his fingers worrying at the cell phone with 911 programmed in and ready to go at one touch.

 

“Why not just shoot me and get it over and done with?” he blurted out suddenly, “I mean, why all these notes threatening shit but not actually doing it.” Jensen knew why really, knew it was some twisted game, but getting it out in the open, the very core of his fear, it felt good. Jared knew he didn’t need to answer; the two men had spent quite a lot of the day reading through profiles trying to understand the man behind the notes, and they had covered the 'why' in some detail. Not right in the head, Jim had added helpfully, before being encouraged to go and make coffee, leaving Jensen sitting at the table his head in his hands. The profiles made for uncomfortable reading.

 

It seemed many stalkers end up threatening their victims, that they were more likely to threaten if there was a prior intimate relationship with the victim. On the plus side it seemed like over half of the profiles Jared had created had a central suspect profile who was non violent and Jensen was clinging to that until the next profile was turned over, and it contradicted the previous.

 

All the reports were doing, all that the analysis was leading to, was a picture of a stalker disturbed and threatening, and knowing statistics was not going to help. What concerned Jared the most, was something he had never realised, that the more specific the threat, the more likely it was to be carried out. The notes received earlier were likely to represent an immediate emotional response; as opposed to the considered decision to use the violence which was being threatened now. The notes and emails had escalated in tone, had become less random and a lot more specific in what the stalker was going to do to Jensen.

 

“Jensen, believing that a stalker would act like we would is dangerous, we agreed that. You know we expect him to kill quickly, but he is playing with you, causing you distress, breaking your down, killing you seems like it would be the icing on the cake.”

 

“You said, the ones that kill, they are more likely to have a mental disorder, would have researched me… Jared it could be anyone out there with access to the Internet” Jensen was starting to pale again, as he had done in the kitchen earlier that day when statistics and profiles were laid in front of him, and Jared pulled at his hand until he had a tight grip, the driver looking in his mirror at the flurry of movement in the back seat. The division meant he couldn’t hear anything but this Jensen Ackles and his friend seemed to be in the middle of a heated discussion, the driver lowered his gaze as he met hazel eyes in the mirror and the stony face of the other man who seemed intent on calming this Ackles guy down. He just nodded and looked back to driving, he was good at his job he could ignore all manner of things in the back of his car.

 

“Jensen, the profilers said no, OK. They said it is someone in your circle of people, fellow actor, friend, so lets just focus on that.” As soon as he said it, he knew how ridiculous it must have sounded, asking Jensen to focus on the fact that a friend was out to kill him, but it was true. Friends, colleagues, actors, Jared could handle them, had the measure of them, knew where they were. Strangers with no more of a connection than the image of Jensen on a big screen, and gossip in street corner glossies, were a lot harder to protect him from, being unpredictable and an unknown quantity.

 

The car stopped att the back of the hotel. Jensen would be joining the green screened walk from a different direction, not the same way as all the other CW pretty boys and glamour girls, and with a final tight grip of hot hands Jared climbed out of the car first, his huge body a protection to Jensen. He paused, casting careful looks around the well lit lot, his eyes focusing on every point of danger, his cops nerves calm and not giving him bad vibes. He had learned to trust them in his undercover roles, a singular instinct that had his back on many an occasion, allowing him to think on his feet.

 

Finally happy, he moved to one side a little and Jensen clambered out of the car, Jared hustling him to the door, both of them sighing audibly with a unique sense of relief, as the door closed behind them. They exchanged grins, stupid ridiculous yet calm grins, and squaring his shoulders Jensen started the walk to the front of the hotel, Jared watching as the Jensen he knew and had grown to like, morphed before his eyes into the Jensen that the fans knew. The consummate professional, one take Ackles, one of the older of the CW stable, at the peak of success in his small screen career. Gorgeous, sexy and in control. Jared swallowed, slightly in awe of the change, seeing the stress and the fright falling away from the older man like he was discarding a cloak. Aware he was behind he quickened his step to reach Jensen’s side and they exchanged quick smiles. This was going to be OK, Jared would do his job, Jensen would be fine, they would find the stalker and they would be OK.

 

Jensen did his bit, Jared stood back, carefully watching around, the tie at his neck tight and irritating, his pants too restrictive his shirt too form fitting, but at the same time the gun a reassuring weight at the base of his spine. He listened to the questions.

 

What do you hope for Season 4 Jensen?

 

I hope to not be dead still. *laughter*

 

Do you know what is going to happen?

 

Eric keeps things close to his chest...

 

Jensen, we hear you have a new regular on the cast, a younger Dean?

 

Yeah, a young guy, Brock Kelly, he is in three episodes...

 

What is it like working with him?

 

He is a great actor, gonna be big...

 

There was a flurry of movement to one side, and a tall slim man walked towards Jensen, Jared stiffened, took a step towards his charge, relaxing when he saw it was the young actor they had just been talking about.

 

Kelly walking past two interviewers, Kelly shifting uncomfortably in a thick red jacket, Kelly looking uncertainly at Jensen, not returning the older actors warm greetings, Kelly reaching into his jacket. Kelly pulling out a gun.

 

Chaos

 

Jared moved so fast he was on Kelly before the gun left the young actors’ jacket, reacting solely on the glimpse of gun barrel, and flattening the man in one movement, wrestling the gun from his hand and keeping him on the floor in a grip of iron. He barely recognised what was going on around him, anger so intense rising in him, that he wanted to close his hands round the guy neck and squeeze until there was no life left in him. He looked up, Jensen being pulled away by security, camera’s flashing as Kelly released the gun on a whimper, trying to say something, to shout something, his voice part of the cacophony around them. Jared released a hand and grabbed at the gun, pulling it into his hands and steadying to pass it to security, confusion clouding his vision as the weight in his hands felt wrong. It all felt wrong, Brock whimpering under him, shouting in his ear.

 

“He said it was OK, that it was prank, that Jensen would understand,”

 

Brock was crying now, and Jared released some of the weight as his subconscious forced him to assess this, a man sobbing in his grip, a fake gun, a prop gun, a prank… words span in his head and he desperately searched for Jensen in the crowd and chaos around him. Blinded by camera flashes he stumbled to his feet, dropping the prop gun to the floor and reaching for his own gun, unchecking the safety and franticly trying to catch sight of the man he was here to protect.

 

He pushed past security, the gun in his hand starting screams, beautiful girls in short dresses and heels and men in dark suits a sea of colours in his vision, adrenalin pumping in blood around his body, his heart pounding with fear. It was seconds, minutes… an hour, before Jared knew.

 

Jensen was gone.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The pain was incredible and Jensen could taste blood in his mouth, metallic with slime and dried into flakes on his lips. He blinked behind a blindfold and he pulled at arms bound tight behind him, ankles tied to the chair he was sat on. Where was Jared? What had happened? What was this place?

 

“Jared?” he croaked, his throat scratched and his voice hoarse, desperate to hear something back.

 

“He’s not here for you Jensen,” soft words, slightly slurred in the corner, in the dark, the smell of alcohol on breath that reached Jensen in his blindness as the blindfold was pulled from his head, his hair catching on scratchy material. The room was blurry, the dark inches away from him, and he blinked again, his eyes tearing in pain, he couldn’t see who it was, couldn’t see properly, as the shadow moved in front of him, and rough hands pulled at his chin, closing in a grip around his bruised neck and lifting his head to look up.

 

Small parts of the images before him began to coalesce in Jensen’s vision, becoming clearer and he saw a face terribly familiar to him. With a sudden inexplicable terror in his eyes and shock in his voice he forced out one word past the grip the other man had on his neck.

 

“Why?”


	8. Chapter 8

Jared felt like there were knives being driven into his head, every single moment of what had happened playing over and over like a bad movie. He tried to focus on the security guards face, the one who had bundled Jensen away, but all he saw was a broad back, someone bigger that Jensen, short dark hair. Nothing else.

 

Brock was here pacing with him, apologising, over and over and over, but not able to add much more than a generic description of the guy who had approached him as he waited on the green CW walkway.

 

A security guard... a friend from Vancouver... Jensen pranks everyone... we wanna get our own back... here take this... it’s not real... this will be so funny.

 

Jared wanted to kill the younger man, literally wanted to push his face in a wall. How could he have been so bloody stupid, to pull a gun, a fake gun, in front of everyone? And who was the freaking security guard and why was he not caught on any cameras, each picture taken with him in a blur of confusion.

 

Jared pushed Brock for more details. He had a beard… a neat one… I didn’t really see his eyes… he was tall… six foot… I don’t know anymore, god I am so sorry.

 

Cops arrived, checked Jared’s ID, immediately deferred to the tall man with wild anger in his eyes. Even so, they had protocol and the bravest of the group began to explain LAPD kidnap procedures to a clearly frustrated bodyguard.

 

We need to move this to the guys home… we need a base of operations… for when they demand a ransom…

 

Jared listened to what they said, or rather he half listened, his mind turning in it's own way, and then when they mentioned ransom he turned on them, temper high inside him. “This guy has a name, Jensen freaking Ackles, and whoever took him wants to kill him, not demand a freaking ransom. Tell me you have a better idea of what to do than set up a freaking base of operations? What about street cameras? Witnesses? For fucks sake.”

 

They blinked at the cop from Texas, his vowels rounded as he spoke rapid and to the point, each word punctuated by a movement of his hand in frustration. He still held his gun in a solid grip, and given crowd control was a major concern, the local cop in charge was adamant the situation was moved away and weapons were holstered. Jared stubbornly held onto his gun, stubbornly refused to move, until Jim found him, stalking the back area of the Up-fronts, chaos around him, and made him move.

 

“He isn’t here Jared, there is no point in being in this mess here, let’s take this home.”

 

The drive back was tense, Jared driving, Brock and Jim talking, shouting, Jared focusing intently on every word, listening as Jim answered his cell, spoke to who Jared assumed was Chris, spoke to security, demanded much, received little in return. All too soon they arrived back at Jensen’s house, filing into the kitchen, Jared stopping briefly to grab at the papers on the desk in the study and the new faxes sitting in the fax tray.

 

He walked into chaos in the kitchen, JIm almost screaming at a cowering Brock, Brock with his hands up in defence, tears in his eyes, "this isn't helping,” Jared said loudly and both Jim and Brock subsided into immediate silence. “We’re missing something, something in these papers. Brock I want you to look at every picture, every slide, every profile and talk to me, tell me what you are thinking, who you may recognise. Jim I need you to go through it with him, help him.

 

Cops had followed them into the room, setting out phone equipment and Jared thanked god that the LAPD were so experienced in this kind of problem, at the same time as cursing the necessity of having them here.

 

He pulled out the new faxes on the latest reports from his friends in the Dallas PD criminal profiling lab, the last of the names on his list, the ones he had added for them to check simply because he had run out of reasons why anyone would want to harm Jensen.

 

There were financial reports, social reports, school information, photos, but it was the near to last report that rang alarm bells. Carefully Jared pulled at the top sheet, checking he had matched up the correct report to the correct header, codes aligning the details at the bottom of each fax. It didn’t make sense.

 

“Jim… I was told… I thought…” he placed the papers flat on the table, three sheets side by side and Jim crowded next to him, his face falling in a stunned look of confusion.

 

“Jared, what is this…?”

 

Jared pointed to the top, to the Army insignia that stretched from one side to another, a medical discharge report dated three months earlier.

 

“What the fuck Jim, what the fuck?”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen sat horrified, the breath leaving his lungs and the restrictive hold of firm hands on his throat stopping inhalation.

 

“Josh?” he managed to push past lips losing the colour of blood, the madness in his brothers eyes curling and pulsing in his head. Why was his brother doing this, what….

 

Snapping his hands back Josh left his punishing grip on Jensen’s neck and leaned back, trying to ignore the pleading from his younger brother. His brother who could shout all he wanted, but who no one would hear until the other one, the boyfriend, arrived.

 

Digging into Jensen’s pants he pulled out Jensen's cell, smirking at the 911 showing on the screen and keying to delete it. Casually he flicked through the last calls; Chris, Steve, Jim and a Jared. This was the Jared he needed and tilting his head to one side he contemplated the noise his brother was making and the frantic movements in the chair. This wasn’t good, all this noise and confusion in his head, Jensen needed to be quiet and with no hesitation Josh clenched his hands into fists and punched hard at the side of Jensen’s head, once twice, a third time, blood and skin, spitting and splitting, as he carefully ensured his brother would be semi-conscious and quiet for a good while to come.

 

Blessed silence.

 

Stepping carefully over blood spatters, wincing at the patterns he had made on the concrete floor, seeing other blood spatters in his head from children and mothers in it's place, he stood away from the mess. Desperately focusing on the here and now he turned his back on the half conscious man and Keyed the one number he needed.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared answered on the first note from his cell, eyes widening as Jensen’s name appeared on the screen, his lovers name hovering on his lips even as he knew it couldn’t be Jensen phoning him. He said nothing only listened, his face carefully blank even though Jim was gesturing for who it was.

 

Simple words spoken in a soft Southern accent. An address…

 

“Bring who you want cop, but when you get here it is just me and you and my brother.”

 

Jared nodded, then forced out a simple yes.

 

The call was disconnected and Jared raised stricken eyes to Jim and the room of cops who stood expectantly.

 

“Josh.” He started, “Josh Ackles has his brother, and now he wants me.”

 

Everyone talked at once.

 

You are not going on your own

 

Jared, Josh is Special Forces… for God’s sake

 

Sir, this is not something you should be contemplating.

 

Jared simply held up a hand and one by one everyone fell silent. “OK, here is how we are doing this.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen was in a world of pain, his neck twisted, darknss at the edges of his vision, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Every single blow from his brother’s hands had pushed him closer to unconsciousness, until he finally stopped trying to brace himself for the blows and instead slumped into them, the rage in Josh so near to killing him. He tried to listen; Josh was talking… telling someone to come alone… that there was stuff that needed doing, and somewhere in his semi conscious state he felt the binding tying him to the chair being cut away before the chair tipped and he fell unable to move his hands quick enough to brace himself, and feeling the crack in his left shoulder, as it stopped his forward motion against the floor.

 

Josh pushed him to roll over, Jensen biting back the scream of pain as his shoulder twisted, sensing Josh kneeling over him, questions on his lips. His brother placed a wide hand over his mouth. watching as Jensen’s eyes opened in slits through the blood on his face, and almost reverently he pushed the trickles of blood away from the vision he wanted his brother to see.

 

“You should be very scared Jen... Do you know what I have seen, what I have learned, I can kill you with one hand, or I can make you suffer for days, I’ve seen it, I’ve done it, don’t think I wont do it now. So. No noise… do you understand me?” Jensen tried to nod, but instead had to resort to blinking, his neck and shoulder on fire.

 

“Let’s see how long you can stay quiet, show me how quiet you can be Jen.” He dug a hand cruelly into Jensen’s broken shoulder bone watching as the light started to dim in his brother’s hazel green eyes, but no noise, he pressed harder, finally a small grunt of pain and a slip slide into oblivion, bringing Jensen back with a slap of his hand even as he was falling into a state close to unconsciousness.

 

“Do you remember Mackenzie Jen?" Josh asked, his words simple, like he was asking about the weather and Jensen tried, really tried, to focus on the words, Kenzie... of course he remembered Kenzie.

 

"She was beautiful," Josh continued, his hands gripping tight in Jensen's hair, lifting his head so he could look at Josh, "just like you really, on the outside, beautiful, light green eyes, so sweet, so perfect, and inside... inside she was a child, a beautiful innocent child, my sister, my baby sister. Do you remember her?”

 

Jensen tried to nod, forced a simple yes between split lips, Kenzie had been a beautiful child.

 

“She was perfect to the core, not just on the outside where you are perfection, she wasn’t diseased inside like you are, she wasn’t shaming to her family.” Josh sat back on his haunches, Jensen watching him move with blurred eyes. Josh continued conversationally, his eyes on a fixed point outside this room, his tone reverent. “When Mom gave me Kenzie to hold, I was ten, she said to me, Josh be mindful, be careful, she is fragile, don’t you be hurting her. I remember saying, I wont momma, I wont hurt her, and watching you watching her, itching to touch her, to hold her, but you were only seven, you weren’t allowed. She was mine, I was the one she looked to, the one she followed…” he stopped and Jensen tried to refocus on his brother’s face. He knew Josh and Kenzie had been close, they all had, they had the usual sibling rivalries but they were a strong family.

 

Jensen couldn’t take it in, the words spewing at him disjointed and muddled in his brain as Josh slumped down next to him, leaning against the wall, his hands resting between bent knees a gun loose in his grip. Jensen tried to roll onto his side, pushing through the nausea and waves of pain radiating through his battered body.

 

“Josh…” he wanted to talk, wanted to say something, but for trying to, all he got was a kick in his side and a muttered shut the fuck up. Pain dug into him and he shut his eyes, fear and horror carving identical tracks across his heart.

 

Josh’s face shifted from reminiscent to angry in a second, “that weekend… we came to visit you, Mom all fired up about pretty Jensen and his TV career, always her favourite, her special child, and she made us all go. Kenzie was so excited; wanting to see her big brother and the studios, begged to visit, and Dad and I we couldn’t deny her or Mom anything.” He touched Jensen’s face again, pushing away at blood that pooled against Jensen’s half closed eyes, and leaned in to whisper against his brother’s ruined face. “Dad saw you know, he saw you kissing that man, took us home, you never knew. He was so destroyed Jensen, talking to mom in the car, Kenzie crying, she didn’t understand why dad was so angry, mom crying for him to stop driving. You see Dad blamed himself for letting you go to LA, if only you had stayed at home you wouldn't have become this aberation against God, and Kenzie was listening to it all Jen." He stopped, hung his head momentarily, as memories washed over him, "I tried to calm her down, but all she wanted was a cuddle, and she took off her belt and I pulled her onto my lap Jensen. When that truck hit us... you know, dad coulda done something somehow if he wasn’t so distracted, and Kenzie would still be here now, ‘cos not even my grip on her could stop her from being pulled from me.”

 

Jensen wanted to say something… the truck had run a red light, it hadn’t been his dad’s fault that there had been a crash… it wouldn't have made a difference... it hadn’t…

 

“And you and your ways, this whole shit of you being with men, that fucking screwed with mom and dad, they hated you, they didn’t want you, and it scared Kenzie, and then it killed them all.” Grief was thick in his voice and he shut his eyes against the man bleeding in front of him, seeing other faces in his place, “you as good as killed them and you took the only thing that was real in my life away from me.”

 

“No…” this wasn’t real, this wasn’t Josh here, not the Josh he knew, this wasn’t his Josh… Jensen tried desperately to focus as Josh scrambled to stand, turning the gun in his hand and looking out of the window.

 

“He’s here.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared stopped the truck outside the address he had been given, and clambered out to stand, thoughtfully looking over the area; an assortment of warehouses, empty and some derelict. These buildings formed part of the downtown regeneration area, and were earmarked for rebuilding in the next few months. Signs indicated dangerous structures, broken widows jagged in the failing sunlight and water collected in cracks in ageing concrete road. Jared knew the cops were behind him, hoped his call to army intelligence would pay off, and standing tall he grasped his gun tight in his hand and moved to face whatever was inside the warehouse at the end.

 

He pushed open the rusting door, standing off and to one side, his weapon now held solid at ninety degrees to his body, carefully entering the empty space inside and almost immediately seeing the man standing with his back to the far window, weapon drawn. Jared couldn’t even look at the slumped form on the floor, knowing in his gut it was Jensen, and praying he wasn’t dead.

 

“Josh Ackles I assume?” He started, moving closer, swallowing as Josh moved his gun to point at Jensen, following it with a kick causing Jensen to heave a moan in pain. Something shot through Jared, a primeval urge to beat the livng crap out of Josh, brother or not.

 

“We both know you are gonna drop the gun cop.” Josh said simply as he crouched down by his semi conscious brother and forced the barrel of the gun against his neck.

 

All Jared could do was nod. He knew Josh would be in this position, had assumed, if Jensen was still alive, that he would be powerless to act on anything if Josh had a weapon trained on his charge. In a simple motion Jared ejected the clip and slid both it and the gun on the floor toward the man, who then stood in one smooth move and pushed the weapon with his foot to one side. Jared raised his palms in front of him in a gesture of peace, but Josh wasn’t accepting that.

 

“Get here and kneel, hands behind your neck.” The classic execution pose, none of this made sense. Jared wanted to ask why. Why are you doing this to your brother? But he knew he had to wait on that one, keep it personal, take the focus off of Jensen…

 

“Why do you want me here?” Jared questioned softly and Josh smiled, a twisted smile, and he tilted his head to one side, looking thoughtful.

 

“Is this a way of delaying me killing you cop? Getting me to grandstand about my reasons why I want my brother dead, why I want you dead?”

 

Jared shrugged, that was exactly what he had been trying to do, and he lowered himself to his knees, lacing his hands behind his neck and hoped against hope that he could get back on schedule for that one delaying tactic he had.

 

“Monologues are good for the soul.” Jared offered, casting a quick eye over the still form of Jensen, catching green eyes filled with fear, half covered in free flowing blood. Jensen needed medical help quickly if the amount of blood was anything to go by, and there was still no sign of the help that Jared was so desperately wishing would just arrive already. Before it was too late.

 

"Not this soul cop, this soul is going to hell and no amount of talking is gonna change that. You first." Jared didnt move, he remembered the note, first him, then you. "You first, so he can see that loss with his own eyes, his lover," Josh spat the word lover with venom and disgust, "his lover dead in front of him." Casually he moved the weapon, a small smile on his face, and moved slowly to stand behind Jared, pushing the barel of the gun against Jared's temple.

 

There was regret in Jared, regret that he was going to be leaving so soon, when only twenty six years of his life had been finished, but he pushed it back, he needed to focus, delay Josh, use his own training against him.

 

"It must have been hard, at war, all that death-"

 

Josh just forced the gun harder against Jared's temple, so hard Jared could feel the fine tremors of shaking in Josh's hand.

 

"What the fuck do you know cop, you know nothing about the things I saw, the things I did, and if that is your last thought before you die, to talk to me about my war, then i pity your boyfriends last memories before he dies as well."

 

Silence. Jared focused hard on the hazel of eyes bright with tears, a singular regret inside him as he realised that help was not going to get here in time for him, hoping it got here in time for Jensen. He blinked steadily, refusing to close his eyes, refusing to cower in front of the gun, his back straight, his hands laces tight behind his neck, sending a quick prayer for his family and relaxing, finally ready to meet his fate.

 

Josh pressed a hand to the pain in his head, casting one final look at Jensen, determination speeding through him with purpose, and steadying his breathing he pulled back on the trigger.

 

The single shot echoed in the empty warehouse, a scream, nooooo, and then silence.


	9. Chapter 9

Jared winced at the sound, feeling the kiss of the gun against his temple relax as the pistol fell to the floor, Josh scrambling back a strangled nooooo from his mouth and blood on him. It took milliseconds for Jared to realize it wasn’t his own blood, that he hadn’t been shot, that it was Josh quiet on the floor next to him, blood pumping from a wound in his chest. He scrambled to Jensen, aware that others were crowding around Josh, and he found himself calling for medics to lift Jensen from the floor. There was too much blood, Jensen’s face, streamed with ribbons of red, his eyes swollen almost shut, his hand trying to grasp at Jared’s, the same hand Jared grasped and held, still calling for a paramedic. Jensen was talking, trying to talk, and Jared leaned down.

 

“Josh…” one word and Jared rocked back on his heels looking over at the oxygen mask and the injections and the flurry of movement around the brother bleeding out on the cold concrete floor. He caught the concerned looks, the impetus in the paramedic’s movements even as another paramedic started reading Jensen’s vitals, the rhythmic movements of large hands pushing at Josh’s chest, and the army officer standing with a gun drawn over the dying man. The shot had been high, Jared could see that, it wasn’t a kill shot, but there was so much blood it made him wonder at the damage done. He turned back to Jensen, leaned down, past the blood that congealed and slipped around his hands and spoke low in his ear.

 

“He’s OK Jensen, let go now, let them work here.” Jensen blinked, the paramedic pushing at Jared, pushing him away even as blood bubbled on Jensen’s lips and eyes glazed, his vital grip on Jared’s hand slipping. He mumbled something that Jared couldn’t catch and closed his eyes the remainder of the way, looking peaceful and at rest. Jared sat back on his heels, reaching to pick up his own gun, sliding the clip in place, thumbing the safety on and placing it in the space at the small of his back, and then he waited. He aited for them to lift Jensen from the ice of damp concrete, waited for the medics to pronounce Josh dead, waiting. Just waiting.

 

The army, the officer with the gun on Josh - Jared assumed maybe the one who had shot Josh - he stood waiting as well, his eyes on Jared, on Josh, on Jensen, talking into a cellphone, making a sudden decision and offering a hand to pull Jared to his feet, which Jared took, wincing at the ache in his knees as he stood tall in front of the man in fatigues.

 

“Sir,” the officer said briskly, “we need to debrief this situation. I need two minutes here.” Jared cast a desperate eye back at the gurney being wheeled to Jensen, at the unconscious man who was being lifted carefully, all the time the paramedics talking and recording and organizing. Jared was torn, he wanted to say, no, I’m staying, staying with Jensen, but his professionalism kicked in, they needed to know what had happened so he could leave with Jensen, follow Jensen.

 

“I can’t let him go alone,” Jared said simply, “walk with me.” The officer spoke into the cell and then shut it and paced himself by the gurney as Jared followed.

 

“Can you tell me, in brief.”

 

“In brief, this is Josh Ackle’s brother Jensen, Josh had some kind of grudge here that has resulted in a very particular kind of stalking.” Jared was trying desperately to keep his voice emotionless but it was so difficult to concentrate in the organized chaos around them.

 

“According to our records Ackles was medically discharged twelve weeks ago, we will be arranging a full investigation into this and approaching you for more information at that time.” The officer stopped and Jared gripped at his arm.

 

“For his brother’s sake, you look after Josh, you make sure he is OK.” The officer nodded his face carefully blank, this wasn’t the first case of PTSD he had seen that had manifested itself in this way, but it was the first time he himself had had to draw a weapon and shoot a man down in this sort of situation. He waited as the injured brother and the tall cop left, and sighed, looking back at Josh Ackles, sharpshooter, hero, and wondered just how much of the real man war had left inside him, that he had tried to kill his brother.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The ride to the hospital was interminable, Jensen stable, the blood stopping, his heart strong, the morphine pushing him into an unconscious sleep. When they reached the hospital Jared insisted on following through the swinging doors, his voice firm, his actions firmer, and they let him. They let him watch as the blood was washed away and the x-rays showed cracked ribs, a leg fractured in three places and a broken collar bone, as he regained consciousness only to call for his brother and then Jared, grabbing hold of Jared’s hand and crying in pain. His anxiety was palpable, it was panic, absolute and extreme panic and Jared could feel the despair in Jensen as he held tight. The doctors decided on sedation, Jared didn’t argue, Jensen couldn’t argue, and within seconds all was quiet, the grip on Jared’s hand still firm and unyielding. Jared held the hand even as Jensen was moved out of the ER and up to a side room, sliding onto a chair he scooted closer and slumping low, ignoring the blood on his clothes, and any and all offers of food and drink.

 

At some point a nurse came in and informed Jared that Josh had been stabilized. He had needed an operation to remove the bullet and was in a satisfactory condition in a closed wing. The army paid Jared a visit and in hushed tones they covered the case, Jared desperate for Jensen to not wake up to catch Jared talking about his own brother in terms that included murder and torture. If the officer thought it was odd that Jared remained hunched close to Jensen and refused to let go of Jensen’s hand he didn’t say, Jared wasn’t sure that he could be held responsible for his actions if they had managed to prise his hand away. He listened as they detailed, off the record, some of the things Johs had seen, some of the things he had done, it didnt excuse what he had done, but Jared felt compassion nevertheless.

 

It wasn’t until the early hours of the next morning that the sedative wore off enough to allow Jensen a fragile grip on consciousness. There was only one question, even as he tightened his grip on Jared’s hand, his first thoughts of his brother.

 

“Josh?” He whispered through split and scabbed lips, his voice destroyed by the scarlet and black bruises round his neck from where Josh had stopped the air from reaching his lungs.

 

“Josh is stable, fine, in a bed on the 7th floor, guarded.” Jared summarized gently, feeling Jensen’s grip relax.

 

“He blamed me,” Jensen began, “for Kenzie, for the accident, for dad...” Jensen's voice tailed off and he winced as he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted the iron of blood.

 

“He isn't well Jensen, no one thinks he is well, he is in he army’s medical care, I know there is more to this story than we know here.” Jensen looked hopeful at Jared’s words, a momentary flash of optimism that flared briefly, only to be replaced by sudden tears.

 

“It wasn’t Josh.” He said, Jared's heart breaking all over again as he watched helpless to do a god damn thing. Jensen closed his eyes, tears collecting and running down the side of his face as he felt the pain in his ribs of his suppressed sobs. “Not my Josh.”

 

It was all Jared could do to hold his hand in reassurance and murmur words of support.

 

All he could do.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jim visited, Aggie visited, Chad took personal leave and bitched at Jensen for sleeping so long. Jared stayed as much as he could, spending the time by the bed looking through the papers that Lehne sent him from New York, sifting through reams of computer listings and reports, trying to take his mind off of what had happened.

 

He had been naive to think he could be a good bodyguard. He was a cop for gods sake, not some bodyguard who had received training, who knew what to do, and to nearly lose Jensen, to fail at the one thing he was meant to do? He didn't know how to order this in his head, didn't even know where to start, and slowly but surely his tenuous grip on staying calm was being eroded. He just watched Jensen, kept going through each detail in his head, thinking he should have known it was Josh, the guilt building into a ball of fire in his gut every time he looked at the sleeping man who was his charge. It was Chad that noticed and it was just after midnight, three days after the incident that Jared finally lost it. He had kept everything tight inside and it was very much Chad’s fault that he was pushed over the edge.

 

'“You can’t look him in the eye, cop.” Chad spat out suddenly when Jared couldn’t explain why Jensen was growing more and more quiet and had pulled Chad outside the room to ask his opinion. “You watch him,” Chad continues, venom and anger in his voice, “and you have this thing in your eyes, a condemnation, a ‘blame’ you are pushing onto him. He looks at you and you look away and it's screwing with his head.”'

 

“I can’t… it was me… I let him down…” Jared could understand the hate in Chad’s voice, after all it had been Jared’s job to protect Jensen, one thing, that was all, and look how that had turned out.

 

“Yeah, maybe you did, maybe you didn’t, but really I don’t give a shit what you think, just get sorted before you go back in that room and remember who we should be focusing on here.”

 

Jared’s temper snapped and he herded the smaller man against the wall, how dare he tell Jared what to think, how to feel? He was doing the best he could with the guilt that churned inside him and Chad was nothing more than some fucking two bit actor who…

 

“Fuck you” Jared suddenly shouted, pressing a hand against Chad’s arm, pinning him to the wall, tension coiled inside him, causing the much smaller, much shorter guy to practically flinch in sudden fear. Jared wanted to hurt someone, hurt something, had the passion of self disgust in every pore, his hands clenched against the wall, almost reveling in the fear he saw in Chad’s eyes. Then it seemed, as suddenly as it erupted in him, it left him, and instead of violence, he focused on the man who loved Jensen, who prayed for Jensen, pinned tight against the beige wall begging with his eyes for Jared to understand where he was coming from, and self disgust washed over jared in a wave. It was all too much, the year of undercover work, the things he had seen, the work he been asked to do, the exhaustion that seeped into every bone, then Jensen, lying hurt in the room behind the closed door. The man had trusted him, had needed him, still needed him, asked for him, wanted to touch him, needed reassurance. And what was he doing…

 

With speed born of grief he pushed away from Chad and through doors, blindly following corridors until the cold midnight air slapped his face and he stood shaking against the outer wall, looking into the dark night, finding shadows and running to them, tears in his throat and passion in his anger and his overwhelming self hate. He wanted to hit something, someone, needed an outlet, and when he found nothing, he just slumped to the floor, his back against a tree, his knees bent and his hands over his eyes. Deep wracking sobs forcing their way, unbidden, from emotions he thought he couldn’t feel again.

 

How long he was there he didn’t know, only knowing he had finally stopped crying, feeling stupid and out of control, sitting unmoving, until a familiar voice spoke to him, Chad, standing there looking down at him. Eyes, not full of contempt, but clear and sharp with a fragile understanding.

 

“He’s asking for you.” He said simply and offered a hand to pull Jared to his feet, unconsciously echoing the soldier that had pulled Jared from Jensen’s blood only days before. When Jared stood Chad didn’t drop his hand, simply grasped it carefully and spoke briefly, “tell me you are gonna look him in the eyes,” was all he said, waiting for Jared to nod before dropping his hand and turning back for the hospital entrance, the night the only witness to the flood of shame on Jared’s face.

 

It was simple, Jared thought, he was going to look in Jensen’s eyes, and he was going to see a man, not a victim, and he was going to push his own guilt way to the side to be dealt with later. Later, when Jensen was out of hospital and back home.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Day plus seven, as Jared labeled it in his head, was going home day, and when they finally got through Jensen's front door, Jensen still hobbling on his leg in the cast, Jensen just stopped, Jared bumping into him at the sudden lack of movement. Jensen had just stopped on the threshold, blinking steadily and simply turning round and climbing back in the car.

 

“Not here,” he said simply, “I can’t come back here, I need to go away... a long way. Take me home.”

 

“Home?” Jared asked confused, sliding in behind the wheel and looking back at the beautiful house behind them.

 

“Texas. Take me home to Texas, Jared, please.”


	10. Chapter 10

“You want me to take you to the airport?” Jared asked, leaning both hands on the steering wheel and looking over at Jensen.

 

”No. Drive. Can we drive Jared?” There was such hope in Jensen’s voice that Jared couldn’t really deny him. They needed bags, clothes, money, but Jensen wasn’t moving so Jared climbed back out of the truck and walked in to the shadowed house, everything as he had left it this morning. He pulled his bag from under the bed, piling in as much as he could and then doing the same in Jensen’s room, grabbing at chargers and his laptop and dumping the whole lot on the backseat of the truck and climbing, in looking over at Aggie who was leaning in through Jensen’s open window chatting and smiling.

 

Jensen was smiling back; not his usual smile, not the one that crinkled his eyes and split his face wide open but a small smile, as Aggie stood and spoke in her gentle way. She looked over as Jared climbed in.

 

“Hear you boys are going on a road trip, so I gave Jensen here some food to keep you going.” She reached in and squeezed her boss’s arm. Jared watched as Jensen flinched, and she must have felt it, even as she withdrew her hand she added, very softly, “take care of each other.”

 

Jensen was quick to slide up his window as she moved off, his hands resting in his lap, knotted into a nervous twist.

 

“Where too?” Jared asked, not sure exactly where he was supposed to be heading.

 

“Texas.” Jensen repeated, not looking at Jared, just out at the hedged garden in front of the truck.

 

“Where in Texas,” Jared began patiently, “Jensen, where is home?” Jensen just sat, his hands in constant movement, a frown on his face. Finally he turned to Jared and the look in his eyes… like a lost child, devastation, exhaustion, his skin pale, each freckle standing out in stark relief, it was all Jared could do not to pull him across the seat and hug him.

 

“I don’t know really,” he said in response, “we lived in Dallas, well, just outside of Dallas and we don’t… there isn’t… nothing there for me to go home too.” Jared nodded, so Jensen didn’t have a house in Texas, not a real place to go back to, not really, which left really one option, his family, Jared’s family, Jared’s home, his mom and his dad, Jeff and Megan. Time for one wounded soldier to go back to his roots and he may as well take the emotionally fragile Jensen with him, give his mom two for the price of one.

 

“OK Jen, we’ll sort it.” Jared stated confidently, and slowly moved down the drive to the gates, watching carefully as they swung open and moving off confidently past the guy with the camera standing outside, muttering under his breath about paparazzi. He left the road with Jensen’s house behind and weaved in and out of LA traffic, no room to talk as he concentrated, until at last they were out and headed for their first stop in Jared’s head, Blythe, about 200 miles, and given Jensen fell asleep within ten minutes of starting out it was looking to be a very lonely three hours drive.

 

It was mid afternoon when they reached a hotel, just outside the limits of Blythe, Jensen stirring as the rhythm of the moving truck stopped and blinking owlishly as he stretched the kinks from his twisted neck. The meds he had taken, so good at taking the edge off of the pain had worn low, and he unconsciously touched a hand to the necklace of purple bruises that ringed his throat.

 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep… where are we?”

 

“Blythe, and sleep is good, wait here, I’m gonna book us in.” Jared jumped down and half jogged to reception, leaving Jensen to look around the parking lot at the hotel before him, clean looking, part of a chain, as far removed from the type of no tell motels Dean and Sam stayed in as it was possible to be. He flipped open his cell and dialed the second number down, half smiling as Chris answered with his usual concerned, wassup Jen?

 

"Nothing Chris, just wanted to give you a heads up, I’m on a road trip with Jared, I didn’t want you to worry.”

 

Silence.

 

Chris obviously thinking this statement through, before sighing, “I guess the cops know where you are, the army know where you are, and the CW has extended your start date?”

 

“A month in hell for Dean with Supernatural, the cops have taken everything from me but blood, and the army have enough on their hands without me worrying outside his room C.”

 

”Were you?” Chris asked gently.

 

”Was I what?”

 

“Were you outside his room?”

 

“In spirit, it wasn’t Josh who hurt me - ”

 

“Sure seemed like it to me…” Chris interrupted adding a muttered string of expletives that Jensen had to focus on to hear. Jensen sighed himself, people were probably not going to understand his need to support his brother, jeez, he wasn’t sure he understood it himself. They had had this discussion when Chris and Steve had visited him in hospital. Steve, forever calm, quiet, sat carefully watching Jensen as he took his meds like a good boy and laid very still, and Chris… well Chris paced… a lot… and muttered and threatened. Only subsiding when Jared came back in the room, fresh from the whole Chad experience the day before, and threatened him with hazel eyes full of disgust that Chris was thinking more about revenge than focusing on Jensen’s head space.

 

Jensen continuued, “Chris we talked about this. No one is allowed to see him, no one can see him, they wont let me…” his voice tailed off, “…I’m with Jared, I’m having this time, getting my head round things.” They talked a while longer, Jared coming back to the car, dangling keys and smiling, his head to one side as Jensen mouthed the word Chris. Jared nodded.

 

“I gotta go man, Jared is back with the keys for the room.”

 

”Jen, wait, Jen… is he still your bodyguard?” Jensen leaned over, curling his hand around Jared’s cheek, the younger man’s slight stubble and soft hair mixing under his palm, casually Jared pressed his cheek against the hand. It didn’t take much to form the words he said next.

 

“No Chris, he is my lover.” Jensen finished quietly and over Chris's questions he said his goodbyes.

 

Jared turned his head and placed a soft kiss on Jensen’s palm and then pulled away manouevering the car to the space outside their room area and going round to help Jensen out of the car. Jensen still ached, his leg was numb under the cast, but his ribs hurt like a bitch first thing in the morning, when he wasn’t medicated and at the end of the day when he was tired, so he wasn’t going to turn down the help. Jared helped him to the access, leaning him against the wall as he turned the key in the lock and opened the cream door. Jensen blinked as he took in the two beds, they hadn’t actually ever slept together, only really been intimate twice, and both of those was hot and heavy and rightthefucknow, Jared probably assumed that...

 

“I can see your brain working Ackles,” Jared smirked, helping the older man to the bed furthest from the door and sitting on the bed opposite. “I got a twin room so you could stretch out to sleep, if we slept together then I will inevitably invade your space, roll on your broken leg, crush your ribs… that I can guarantee you… so stop worrying.”

 

“I didn’t know… I mean… I know what I want…” his voice tailed off again. Jeez. He wasn’t usually this tongue tied, but then again, he had never really been in a situation like this before, the start of a new and fragile relationship, so maybe he should cut himself some slack. Jared stood and immediately slid down to sit next to Jensen, bumping his shoulder, a gesture of understanding, following it up with a quick smile.

 

“I know what I want too Jen… but we have some stuff…” he vaguely waved his left hand in the air, indicating said ‘stuff’, and Jensen shrugged.

 

“You mean the whole nearly dying at the hands of my brother who appears to be suffering from post traumatic stress, finding out how my family died, and getting kidnapped thing?

 

“Along with the fact that I have an axe over my head back in New York.” Jared sighed and he felt the bed shift as Jensen tried to stand and in a millisecond he was up at his side, being pulled in for a hug that was unlike anything he had had before from Jensen. It was a desperate clinging, a single moment of despair in Jensen’s attempt to cope, and Jared just stood, aware that Jensen was poised for flight and gentling him with soft touches to his back. “Jensen?” he asked quietly, looking carefully at a tired face and closed eyes.

 

“Will it ever be right again?” Jensen asked, his voice so soft, and Jared used a single finger to tilt Jensen’s chin placing the gentlest of kisses on rough lips and watching as green eyes opened, pupils wide.

 

“Lets get you home then we’ll give it time, we’ll talk, and we’ll sort this. OK?” Jared offered.

 

Time was what they needed. Just time.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Blythe gave way to Phoenix; Pheonix ceded to Tucson and then they crossed into Texas and onto El Paso. Each room the same, but at least in El Paso they shared the same bed, Jensen grumping that he was cold and Jared sliding into to the second bed curling his furnace like body to cocoon Jensen. They slept this way, Jared didn’t hurt Jensen, didn’t roll on him, or squash him, and that led to a king in Sonora as they spent their last night alone, knowing they were going to be where Jared considered home the very next day, with his entire family.

 

Jensen listened with interest to the conversation that six four of muscle had with his mom when he revealed where he was and that he was visiting for the first time in some fifteen months.

 

“I’m sorry mom, I had to… yeah there was a reason why… no I didn’t… I was in LA…” Jensen watched as Jared winced and pulled the cell away from his ear, Mrs Padalecki’s voice clear from the other end, he left it there as she calmed down a bit, then continued, “I’m coming home mom… Sonora yeah… tomorrow and mom, I’m bringing a friend… yes… one mom… one… OK…love you too.” He ended the call, casting a sheepish look over at Jensen, at which Jensen started to laugh, laughing so hard he had to clutch at his chest. Jared watched mildly amused making out sniggered words like big bad bodyguard and scared of his mom… it was enough for him to climb on to the bed and literally crawl up to cage Jensen under his spread arms, careful not to lean any weight and arched back, gently leaning down and capturing the laugh with his lips.

 

“Yeah right, laugh it up Ackles, wait till you meet her, then tell me you wouldn’t be shaking if you were me right now.” His breath was warm against Jensen’s lips, and he leaned down again to steal another kiss, trailing a small path down his chin to his throat and back, feeling Jensen’s hands lift to curl at the back of his neck digging into his long hair and pulling him down for the kiss. He tasted the indrawn breath as Jensen tried to pull air into his lungs amidst the tension of pain and he pulled back, Jensen frowning with a whine of frustration at the pain in his body and the loss of the kiss. Jared shifted, climbing off of Jensen, stripping off his jeans and T, leaving himself only in boxers, and then doing the same to Jensen before leaning back against the headboard, pulling at Jensen’s sleeve to slot himself in between Jared’s spread legs, Jensen's back to Jared’s chest.

 

Jared started to talk then, each word carried through touch, a gentle smoothing of fingers down Jensen’s arms, seeing each fine hair stand in a shiver, moving his fingers onto his chest, exploring gently, desperate to touch each inch. “Just lay still Jen, let me touch you, stay still…”

 

Both times they had been together… so rushed… Jared wanted this to be quiet, peaceful, gentle, and he slid a hand down under the sin of black silk to wrap around Jensen, finding him hard to touch, and eager. Jensen gasped softly, unconsciously pushing his hips up under Jared’s touch and then wincing as his chest pulled uncomfortably. Jared sensed the action, felt the tension and cursed the pain in his lover’s body. Taking one hand he placed it firmly on one hip, holding him down even as the other hand began to twist and move, his thumb sliding through the clear fluid collecting there and sweeping it down to smooth his actions. He should have thought of lotion, slick, anything to make this easier, but he couldn’t stop now, as Jensen mewled in his grip and arched his neck for Jared's mouth.

 

Jared didn’t stop the rhythm, even as he traced each finger impression on Jensen’s neck with his tongue kissing each mark, tears forming in his eyes when he imagined how close he had come to dying, and maybe never knowing this taste. He felt Jensen tensing again, but this time, not in his chest, not in pain. This time Jared knew it was fear… fear that losing himself in orgasm would rip pain through his chest, his leg, his collar bone, and Jared tightened his push on Jensen’s hip, using his chin to anchor at Jensen’s neck, whispering nothings into Jensen’s ear, soft meaningless words, reassuring with his touch and his voice, until orgasm ripped through his lover, the pin prick of pleasure pain as he came hot and wet over Jared’s hand, and arched against Jared’s hold with a whimper. Jared continued to move, the erotic touch of Jensen’s cum against his fingers pushing him so close to his own orgasm, as he supported the weight of his lover. He was still whispering into his neck, just Jensen's name, over and over and over. The touch of Jensen and the taste of Jensen was too much and Jared pushed hard against him one last time, coming harder than the last two times they had been together and without a single touch to his dick.

 

“I know I could love you…” Jensen whispered into the darkening room, relaxing back into Jared’s hold, unconsciously Jared tightened his fingers on Jensen’s hip, firm against the bone, marking the skin stretched there, the breath in his lungs caught in a sudden panic. They were so far apart, the cop and the actor, Jensen up to Vancouver within the month, Jared god knows where, doing god knows what, Jensen with the weight of his brother hanging over him, Jared with the worry about what was happening in New York. He took in a deep breath, Jensen tensing against him at the hesitation in Jared, until he said all he could say now… all he could give Jensen…

 

“I think I could love you too…”


	11. Chapter 11

Their almost declarations of love were hanging over them tantalisingly out of reach but neither said a thing as they packed their bags, with the overnight bits and pieces they had used, and climbed into the SUV ready for the final two hundred odd miles they needed to travel to reach Jared’s home.

 

They drove in a comfortable silence, soft music on the state of the art sound system Jensen had had installed when he bought the truck new. Jared was driving I10 and watching the scenery pass by in a steady blur, his thoughts focused on what had happened the night before. Jensen slept next to him for a while and Jared chose that time to catch up with Lehne on hands free. The news was good, they had closed in on the group that had the grudge, the hangers on to the main guys Jared had brought down, the men paid to discredit Jared’s testimony. In fact, not had they only closed them down they had brought them in on crystal meth charges quite apart from the whole situation Jared was involved in, which left the main man, Capelli, hung out to dry.

 

“So trial is still set for the 27th.” Lehne pointed out conversationally, a note of caution in his voice. Jared had passed on exactly what had happened in LA and added details of the cross country road trip he was on with the actor he had been sent to protect.

 

“I’ll be there.” It irritated Jared that Lehne kept reminding him, it wasn’t as if he was gonna bug out and not turn up.

 

Lehne sighed, he hadn’t really been meaning that, he wanted Jared to join the dots, he didn’t want to have to do it for him, “Jared, there are people here who don’t want you on that stand, people who could have seen the shit that happened in LA.”

 

”No one really caught me on camera.” Jared pointed out vaguely, even as he pulled over at a truck stop the sudden urge for lunch overwhelming. He knew people had probably caught his image, but doubted that something happening at some low key event like the CW Up-fronts would make headlines in New York.

 

“Well, whatever, just keep your head down.” Lehne’s concern was palpable and Jared sighed inwardly, sure that trouble was well away from Texas, as far away as it could possibly be.

 

“I will sir.”

 

”So on a lighter note, the road trip, where you at now?”

 

“Home, San Antonio” Jared said conversationally, resting his head back on the rest and reaching over to gently stroke Jensen’s face, the stubble soft and scratchy under his hand, his heart turning as Jensen blinked green eyes open, soft and sleepy and his lips curved in a smile.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen just watched as Jared’s mom smiled, cried, laughed, shouted and was angry all in turn with her son, who visibly wilted in front of her. Then just as suddenly she was pulling him down and in for a huge hug, warmth and lavender, soft words against his neck… fifteen months… three phone calls… Jared…

 

Jared wanted to say, I was undercover, I couldn’t bring that to your doorstep, couldn’t put you in danger, but all he could say was sorry, almost lifting his mom off the floor in his enthusiasm, before placing her back down and unconsciously hiding his eyes under his bangs.

 

“Jarrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed,” Jensen jerked back as a blur flew past him jumping at Jared, watching as a smaller, girlier, version of Jared was lifted off her feet and swung around the kitchen. He assumed this was Meg, and a pang of memory gripped his heart, imagining Mack, pushing the memory back and pasting a smile on his face, as Jared stopped with the spinning and a laughing Meg ended up standing in front of Jensen, blinking steadily.

 

“You friend is Jensen Ackles?” she said disbelieving, not waiting for Jared to confirm or deny, her gaze going from Jensen to Jared and back again, seeing Jared’s blush and Jensen’s soft smile. “I love your stuff, Supernatural, I am such a fangirl.” She added tilting her head to one side and contemplating Dean, turned real, in her own kitchen. She had read about the accident at the Up-fronts, some kind of prank gone wrong, but jeez, he had a broken leg, no one said it was that serious. She looked at Jared quickly and he shook her head quickly.

 

“Thank you.” Jensen said softly, watching as she backed away, hoisting herself onto the kitchen surface, grabbing at a cookie and waiting expectantly for some kind of explanation.

 

Sherri bustled around them, coffee, cookies, and a demand for news, watching as Jensen seemed to wilt before her eyes. She saw the meds he had taken, and Jared had quickly filled her in on what parts of Jensen hurt. She made a snap decision, that boy needed sleep, "Jared, Jensen needs sleep, he wont heal standing in my kitchen listening to us yapping." and she encouraged them up to Jared's boyhood room, devoid now, Jared thought thankfully, of his Cowboys posters and the other detritus of teenage life. There was still the double bed; placed in Jared’s room when it was clear Jared was going to try and reach his brothers six six frame, and Sherri encouraged Jensen to sit. "It will all wait, supper will be on in about four hours, get some rest."

 

She left without a backwards glance, closing the door behind her and smiling as she stood outside, her baby had a boyfriend, a nice one, not a cop, talking could wait.

 

Inside the room, Jensen contemplated laying down, his ribs aching, the road trip harsh on his bones. Thing was, laying down was going to hurt and he looked up with pain filled eyes at his lover who hovered uncertainly. Carefully he climbed onto the bed and laid back against the headboard, gesturing for Jensen to lay between his legs, this had worked before, this was supporting Jensen's back, his chest, his shoulder. Sighing Jensen settled back against Jared's broad chest, remembering the last time he had been in this position, his dick twitching in interest even as sleep crawled into his head and claimed him, the meds knocking him out.

 

Jared curled hands around Jensen, sensing as each inch of his lovers body relaxed into his hold, he was at peace here, thoughts of trials and facing the wrath of his mom far in the reaches of his brain.

 

He couldn’t know the storm that was brewing round him, couldn't imagine for one minute the two men that had been on separate journeys from New York, one intent on killing, on cutting out the cancer that was Jared the man that could put him in jail, the other to protect Jared from an early death.

 

He just focused on the man in his arms, fingertips tracing soft skin over hard muscle, feeling each ounce of stress leaving him as the Texas air filled his lungs.

 

Home.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Misha was in position way before then next morning, his iPhone pulling up mugshots and data relevant to the case, his authorisation for pretend leave accepted in his in box. He didn't need to be told this was off the record, didn't need to see the fear that was in Lehne's eyes to know that the threat to Jared was real.

 

He liked Jared, liked the tall effusive Texan; had been Jared’s handler when he was working undercover. If Lehne was worried, then Misha felt he needed to be too, and he sat quietly, his weapon on his lap, his brain churning. If Lehne thought the NY case had followed Jared here, then that opened a lot of questions, how the hell did anyone know he was here; the latest intel on his whereabouts had placed him in LA with the actor, and despite the whole debacle at that show thing, Jared had been safe.

 

Misha wasn’t stupid. He had seen fear in Lehne’s eyes, seen something there, wondered who Capelli was threatening to make Lehne so nervous. He pulled out his cell thumbing to Jared’s name, Jared answering on the second ring, his voice low, almost a whisper.

 

“Hey.”

 

”Jayman,” Misha started, his own voice lowering in response to the whisper in his friend’s voice. They hadn’t spoken in so long, such an intense relationship with Jared undercover and Misha covering his back, that they needed space when it all came to an end. “Jay, good to talk man… we so need to meet up for a beer one day?” Jared didn’t reply immediately, the pause significant.

 

“Cool. Long time man…”

 

“Yeah, I cant stay, things to do, just wanted to touch base.”

 

They chatted a bit longer, inconsequential stuff, work, people, and then Misha rang off and Jared lay still for a short time, his mind in overdrive. Carefully he eased himself from behind Jensen; the older man huffing in his sleep, the meds leaving him boneless, until finally he stood, wondering if he should include Jensen in this.

 

Quietly he reached in to his duffle, pulling out his gun, ejecting the rounds, checking carefully and then pushing the mag back in the base, placing it in it’s usual space at the base of the spine and pulling down his Tshirt to cover it. Uncertainly he stood over Jensen, Misha’s warning ringing in his ears, then turning on his heel he took the stairs three at a time and ended up back in the kitchen with his mom and sister who sat where he had left them, heads close, chatting.

 

“Mom, I can’t explain, but I need you to go visit Aunt Tessa, kinda now.” Sherri blinked, not sure exactly what was being said; only picking up on the tension in her son’s voice.

 

She stood, Meg standing with her, “What is wrong Jared?”

 

“Mom, something followed me from New York, can you just take Megan, and go to Tessa’s, stay there till I come get you?” His mom didn’t move, eyes flicking between Meg and Jared’s, and then pulling herself taller, grabbing her bag from the side and moving to the back door, a clearly bewildered Meg following.

 

“Tell me one thing Jared,” she said softly as she turned back to face him, “Why here?” Why not LA, why not New York…

 

“Back in NY, they got too close, they don’t have anything on me, nothing for leverage, nothing except you. Please go.”

 

“Jensen?”

 

”Knocked out, I can’t move him. Please…”

 

Sherri nodded, “I’ll get hold of your dad, and Jeff… we’ll be… at Tessa’s.” Jared nodded his thanks, pulling out his gun and seeing his mom’s eyes widen. He needed to be sure there was no one here already... we so need to meet up for a beer one day... Misha’s warning that there was someone out to harm Jared, someone he needed to get away from. Only this time he wasn’t backing down, if he did, if he let this person chase him from the only place he called home, scared him into not testifying… no that was not going to happen.

 

He watched his mom and sister cross the back lawn and follow the winding path down the side of the yard to the small alley that connected their property to Tessa’s, Sherri’s sister, and nodded as they slipped in to the house, and pulled the door behind them.

 

And so he sat, in his momma’s kitchen, bringing violence to her door, the very thing he didn’t want to do, and he waited.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Misha moved uncomfortably in his car, he wasn’t used to the whole surveillance thing, and not only was his ass numb but his brain was going that way too. He cast another look at his screen, focusing on the only man not in prison, the very man that Jared was testifying against, Capelli, Vincent Capelli, wondering how the fuck he had pushed past surveillance to get out of NY and down here to Texas. In his head he saw conspiracies, in his head he distrusted Lehne’s motives, wondered what it was that Capelli held over Lehne’s head. He filed away that worry as the silver sedan slowed to crawl, passing the old white clapboard house where he knew Jared was, before speeding up and twisting around the next corner. Quickly he redialed Jared, waiting one ring and hanging up, that was the best he could do, even as he rechecked his gun and amped up his concentration.

 

Inside the house Jared still sat at the table, the cell phone showing the missed call and Jared knowing this was it. Instinct was telling him to stand, to hide, to do something, but really it was his assailant’s show here. He wanted this kept downstairs, contained, inside, and so he moved to stand in the hall, his gun loose at his side, he didn’t have to wait long.

 

It was Capelli himself who had decided to carry out this hit, Capelli who now had Jared’s pistol at his head, taken by surprise even as he tried to enter the house stealthily. Capelli who dropped his own gun as the cold hard steel of Jared’s gun barrel was pressed on his flushed skin.

 

“My Tristan Zajak, my right hand man..." he said, hate in his voice, "...Jared Padalecki.” He paused, raising arms in an innocent spread. “Family not here?” he added, a smirk on his face, still the big man despite the weapon at his head.

 

“You leave my family out of this.” Jared snarled, pulling out his cell with his other hand, and dialing Misha.

 

“Jared?” Jensen, shit, Jensen’s voice at the door, fear lacing his words, enough of a distraction for Capelli to twist in Jared’s view and start to grapple for the single gun. Jared grunted as Capelli, not a small man, pushed his weight against his gun arm, trapping it against the wall, a hand firm on his trying to get Jared to drop the gun. 

 

Jared relaxed his stance, loosened his stiff muscles and pushed back. Grunting with exertion they pushed and struggled, Jared getting the edge, tripping Cappeli back over a chair. Capelli’s free hand directing a blow straight at Jared’s face, connecting with bone and muscle, Jared trying to duck under the force, hitting back twice as strong, watching as Capelli fell backwards, the gun in their hands twisting, on a hair trigger, a single bullet firing, and Capelli crumpling to the floor and a heavily breathing Jensen standing uncertain, a heavy knife block in his hand, stunned surprise at what he had just done in his stance.

 

A man dived into the kitchen, a short man, eyes taking in the scene, his gun held high, falling to his knees next to Capelli, a fist firm in his lower back, cuffing his hands, his eyes wide as he met Jared’s.

 

Jared slumped down against the wall, the bullet from his own gun embedded in his thigh, his eyes glassy.

 

“911, Jensen, 911.”


	12. Chapter 12

Jared focused on Jensen’s face. He knew the bullet hadn’t hit anything major, no arteries split open and spilling blood on his mom’s hallway floor, but the pain was intense. He watched Jensen’s mouth as the older man was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying, his mouth moving but the words jumbled in Jared’s head. He blinked, finding it harder to keep his eyes open, Jensen’s hands on his leg, pushing down, holding in the blood, Misha there, shouting, Capelli lying, looking at him, a smirk, a goddamn smirk on his face, words flying around him… a flurry of movement and then silence as his eyes refused to open again and he slipped ragged-tired into black, his last thoughts of his mom’s floor, Jensen’s tears…

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen paced, as much as a person can pace hobbling on a broken leg, the whiteness of the room surreal as he kept up the movement. Misha was there, sitting patiently, elbows on knees, head bowed deep in thought.

 

“This is stupid long…” Jensen muttered again, stopping to stand in front of a board holding a tumbled mess of rotas and announcements. They had been installed in the nurse’s lounge, moved after Jensen got recognised and someone started taking photos, and it was a pretty uncomfortable and austere room to be sitting in.

 

“He’ll be fine,” Misha offered, looking up and catching hazel green eyes with his own, nodding as Jensen finally focused on what he was saying. “He’s had worse, I guess you saw his back…” Jensen hadn’t, and he had the grace to blush at what Misha was insinuating, at the same time realising that no, he hadn’t seen Jared’s back, because no, they hadn’t really properly been together in all the weeks they had been together… “… the scars on his back were from a car that was set to blow… Jared pulled out two kids from that car… damn heroic idiot… before the whole thing blew up in his face… or his back as it was.”

 

Jensen was intrigued and somewhat embarrassed that he didn’t know this stuff, that they had spent all this time together and they had been solely focused on Jensen and his problems. Carefully he eased himself down on the sofa opposite Misha, breathing deeply as his chest contracted in pain, he wanted to learn more about Jared, to forget that the man was laying in an operating theatre for the removal of the damn bullet, to focus on the positives.

 

“Tell me more.” He ordered softly, leaning forward, a singular light of curiosity in his eyes, watching as Misha lifted his head and smiled gently.

 

“Where do I start?” Misha asked thoughtfully, “Jared is a huge idiot, heroic, impulsive, tall… Capelli I guess… Jared was sent in, managed to get accepted... as a new member of Capelli’s organisation. You’ve probably seen the shit on tv, a few days undercover and the organisation is blown wide open, the whole riding off into the sunset thing? Well in real life it isn’t really like that, Jared became Tristan Zajak, single, no family, background in petty crime, some dealing, a whole back story if anyone cared to research him, a year, fourteen months, and that was how Jared started to bring Capelli’s organisation down.”

 

Jensen leaned forward hanging on to every word. This is the Jared he wanted to learn.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

When Jared started to come too, it was to find a dozing Jensen spread out uncomfortably on a chair next to his bed, and his very first thought was that Jensen shouldn’t be there waiting for him to wake up when Jared knew he must be in pain.

 

“Jensen?” Jared pushed the words past a dry throat, swallowing as the syllables sounded so loud in the empty quiet room. He realised he wasn’t attached to machines, no pipes in his throat so he guessed the bullet removal had been successful and without drama. Jensen stirred almost immediately, wincing and pushing himself to sit upright, his face pale.

 

”Jared...” he said simply, reaching out a hand to curl stiff fingers into Jared’s half grip.

 

“Leg injuries… one all,” Jared almost smiled, would have smiled if it wasn’t for dry lips that he thought would crack. Jensen leaned over their joined hands, resting his forhead on them.

 

“Freak,” he muttered, “fuckin’ freak.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Sherri handled it like it happened every day, her son shot, her son’s boyfriend in a cast, both of them hobbling around her house, each day growing grumpier and grumpier. She saw more than she let on, knew her house was a haven for her son, but aware that JaredJensen needed space. Jerry and her sat and chatted, came up with a plan, organised the half house / half cabin, organised the transport, received reassurances from NYPD that Capelli was safely put away, his trial delayed on the prosecutors request for new evidence, by at least another three months. That nice Collins man, he had sat them both down, talked about the likelihood of Jared still being in danger, gone through details of why he believed Jared was safe. He talked about Lehne, about the threat on Lehne's daughter's life that had pushed him to reveal Jared's whereabouts, talked about Jared's life as a cop.

 

Sherri had dug further, used her initiative, contacted people, checked on this brother of Jensen’s, still under army medical care, still away from visitors. That gave her boys a window… at least four weeks… they needed it… so she arranged it.

 

Jared just sat and blinked as his mom organised the next four weeks of his life, his eyes flicking from her to his dad and then to Jensen. Jensen who sat impassive, a soft smile on his face, loving being ordered about, affection deep in him at this powerhouse of a mother and her ability to make his lover blink in such a shell shocked way.

 

Four weeks. Four whole weeks.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It was half cabin, half one story house, clean, tidy, away from the beaten track, at the centre of an expanse of low lying Texas dirt, a horse farm, the owners a good mile away in the main house. Cell phones worked, but there was no landline, a freezer full of food, an agreed delivery from the main house for fresh food each week, a library full of DVDs and books, the perfect place to recuperate. Both men slept away the first day, Jared still on meds for his leg that sent him into dreamless sleep, Jensen on lower level meds, his head full of nightmares and dreams that he couldn’t understand.

 

On the second day they took stock, Jensen trying to sneak a kiss, Jared pulling back, his face carefully neutral but his eyes dark and thoughtful. Jensen didn’t say anything, Jared didn’t elaborate, simply subsiding onto one end of the sofa and pressing play for the thirty ninth time of him watching Die Hard in his life. He heard Jensen sigh before pottering around in the kitchen and coming back in with cans of coke and chips.

 

”No popcorn.” He offered, placing the bowl of chips between them, and feeling the desperate need to ask questions, to talk.

 

“Hmmm.” Jared responded. So much for talking.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

They slept in the same bed, a handmade four poster bed, in a huge wooden floored bedroom, the only bedroom. Jared still slept the sleep of the drugged, Jensen’s sleep still broken and fitful, his head a mass of confusion as to what was going on. He knew Jared was in pain, but this… this casual dismissal of Jensen’s affection… that was hard. Jensen had days ago fallen head over heals in love with the man who didn’t move beside him, way before the kidnapping, probably the very day they had come together in anger and distrust in the basement gym. Jensen sighed, even thinking of that day made him hard, a skitter of arousal down his spine, affection and need warring for top spot as he half turned, wincing at the tightness in his chest, to look at his lover in sleep.

 

Jensen touched Jared’s arm, tracing a vein that traveled from elbow to wrist, purple bruises marking the skin. Jared was half turned away, and for the first time Jensen traced that skin up and behind Jared, feeling the raised scars from the accident Misha had described. The bravery of the man under his fingers, turning his back to the explosion, the two kids in his arm protected behind six four of muscle… It didn’t bear thinking about, that Jared was so willing to throw himself in harms way for others, Jensen included. Jensen leaned in, following his finger with his lips, the touch of heated skin reassuring and soft, tracing muscle and skin learning each inch of exposed skin to touch and taste. Jared stirred in his sleep and startled Jensen pulled back, half open sleepy eyes, pupils large in the half dark looking at him in confusion, before lids slid closed again and Jared’s eyes were once again shut. Breathing softly Jensen returned to his position to sleep, the taste of Jared on his lips, his hand wrapped around his own dick, only half hard, a comfort, a touch that was familiar. Jensen sighed, willing himself to sleep and promising that he would take the time tomorrow to talk, something was eating away at Jared, something was changing, going wrong, and Jensen didn’t want that, so if they needed to talk, if Jared needed to cool this down, if Jensen had read him wrong, if Jensen needed to relearn a world without loving Jared… then so be it.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jared stretched as carefully as he could, the blackness of sleep falling away from him an ounce at a time as he opened drug-slow eyes to the new day. Tentatively he reached a hand to Jensen’s space, instinct to check he was OK overriding the promise he had made himself not to touch. That side of the bed was empty and cold, and Jared shivered at the touch of the icy linen. Gingerly he eased himself up, looking at the tablets and the water left on the nightstand next to him, thanking Jensen for his forethought, swallowing them almost automatically as the pain in his leg gripped him and stole his breath.

 

He grabbed his crutches and padded out to the kitchen, seeing the back door open to the cool Texas early morning air and Jensen sitting on the porch, his eyes fixed on a far horizon, a coffee mug in his hands.

 

”Jensen?” Jared asked softly, startling the older man into standing and taking a step towards Jared in reflex.

 

”Hey.” He said, hands opening and closing around the mug, his face thoughtful, taking in Jared’s solid stance, leaning against the door frame, seeing the tight brackets of strain around sleepy hazel eyes. Quickly he brushed past him, not willing to expose his early morning thoughts to all seeing eyes, and poured Jared a coffee, handing it to him and watching the grateful sigh as the taller man took his first sip.

 

Now wasn’t the right time to talk.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

They walked some way from the house, Jared on crutches, Jensen hobbling on his cast and wondering what kind of broken picture they made to anyone looking. They didn’t get too far before Jared started breathing heavier at the exertion and Jensen steered them back to Die Hard 2 and more chips.

 

Now wasn’t the right time to talk.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Jensen struggled with the shower, it wasn’t as big as the one at Jared’s house, nor as easy to get in and out of as the one at his own house, and he was left almost half in and half out trying not to get his cast wet when Jared stumbled into the only bathroom, uncoordinated sleep still in him. Jensen breathed in, blinked as Jared looked directly at him, like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes dropping down and then directly back up a blush on Jensen's face, a mumbled apology and then he left.

 

Now wasn’t the right time to talk.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Everything came to a head, in Jensen’s eyes anyway, when Jared was bitching about Die Hard 4 and the whole jet on a road business and simply stopped halfway through what he was saying.

 

He mumbled something… something that sounded suspiciously like jeez I need a life… and that was it… a red rag to a bull… tension snapping as quick as it was created.

 

“Why?” Jensen blurted, “You need a life cos... why, cos you are sharing a movie with me, cos you think my life, my choices to be an actor is what… beneath you? That movies are beneath you?” OK, Jensen thought, that was irrational crap, but hey, it was out there now. Jared blinked at the sudden outburst.

 

“No… cos… no… I just think that the whole jet thing… shit Jensen… no I wasn’t.” Jared was on the defensive, not quite sure where Jensen was coming from, what was causing this outburst. Jared watched Jensen’s face slow from irritated to aghast at what he had said and then to completely embarrassed.

 

“Shit” he finally said, hanging his head, aware he was really screwing this up.

 

“Jensen, we’re tired, we’re both tired…” He shuffled back in the seat, pulling at Jensen’s sleeve until he moved closer and under Jared’s arm, “lets finish the film… yeah?”

 

Jensen just sighed, relaxing against Jared’s hard chest and nuzzling low, all he had really wanted was reassurance, and Jared pulling him in for a hug… that was good enough.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It changed after that. Touches. Words. Simple things that moved their relationship past that of actor and bodyguard. The flew threw the DVD collection, Jared settling on reading, Jensen settling on watching Jared, they exchanged lazy kisses, Jensen getting all the reassurance he needed in simple contact, but it was the end days that meant the most… when it was time to talk.

 

“So how would this work?” Jared finally asked, lazy and full of pizza and buzzed with a single beer now he had finished his meds run, and Jensen curled in closer, his hands twisted in Jared’s shirt.

 

“The whole distance thing?” Jensen questioned simply, knowing distance wasn’t good for any relationship.

 

“I guess you are mostly in LA, Vancouver, me, I’m in Dallas, that is some distance…” his voice tailed off, dropping a kiss on short hair, “I’m willing to give it a go if you are…” he smirked as Jensen looked up his eyes suspiciously bright with laughter.

 

”Yeah, I guess… if you like…”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Two years later

 

Jensen was pacing… seriously pacing, his cell phone in his hand, in the foyer waiting… the wrap party was over and Jared hadn’t made it, caught up in closing down a case. He had just called, landing at Vancouver airport and into a cab to the hotel, Jensen had wanted to meet him at the airport, but Jared said no to that, citing jumping his lover in an airport as bad publicity. So Jensen paced and waited and ignored the people that were looking at him. Finally the cab pulled up outside and without stopping to think Jensen moved swiftly out of the door grabbing half the bags and walking back in, knowing to not even look at Jared, until finally they were in the lift.

 

“How was the case?” Jensen asked carefully… no touching.

 

“Finished.” Jared replied, “… and how was wrap?” No touching...

 

“Cool” Jensen offered, the lift opening onto the floor, and key card in hand they walked to the penthouse door.

 

“Two months…” Jared muttered under his breath, as Jensen fumbled the key card, his hands shaky, both men briefly looking back at the security camera in the hallway, and Jensen returning to the key card, a sudden desperation to be behind closed doors. The door swung open and then closed behind them as they dropped the bags, then need to touch overwhelming… “sixty three freaking days,” Jared whispered, his hands reaching to touch even as Jensen reached out, and then it was raw and needy and quick and heavy.

 

They had roles, Jared would always be physically bigger, would always be able to lift and push and hold Jensen, and normally Jensen just went with it, but today… today he wanted to push and feel and hold and it was a battle to touch. It was a desperate need to learn each other after nothing more than phone sex for so long, to kiss and touch and force each other to the limit. Jared had Jensen trapped between him and the wall, the only connection at groin level, Jensen’s hands caught in his, kissing until breathing was hard. He pulled back, releasing his grip and lifting Jensen’s Tshirt over his head, exposing acres of freckled skin that he just had to taste, pulling his own shirt up and over his head and then bending to kiss-bite along muscled ridges. He stopped at each nipple sucking and biting into smooth skin, marks of possession, moving back up to chase a kiss and Jensen whimpering into his mouth, hard against him. Orgasm was building inside Jensen, and he wanted it to stop, wanted to drive Jared as mad as he was with the intense longing that was inside him, two months, and now a three month hiatus where Jensen could follow Jared anywhere he went, he wanted it all, but he wanted Jared to be first, for it to be different.

 

“Jared…” he moaned into kisses, pulling at trapped hands and shoving the taller man away and twisting so it was him pushing Jared against the wall, sliding down the length of Jared until he was on his knees in front of him, unbuttoning jeans and revealing his lover, hard and eager in front of his face. He knew Jared loved this… knew every sound Jared would make as he swallowed him down and then pulled back to taste, a hand around the base of his dick, his lips and tongue worshipping and licking and driving Jared insane… he looked up, Jared’s head thrown back against the wall, his hands twisted in Jensen’s short hair, guiding, not pushing, and Jensen knew exactly where to take this next, his other hand gently massaging Jared moving back... touching... feeling. Nothing intrusive, the slick was way over by the bed, but shit, just that single touch was enough to send Jared over the edge and he just lost it, an incoherent mess of want and need, Jensen tasting and swallowing, climbing back up Jared’s body and pulling his head down by his shaggy long hair for a open mouthed kiss, Jared’s eyes half closed as he tasted himself inside his lover. It was too much for Jared, and he guided Jensen to the bed, hands instinctively moving to find lube, Jensen helping him to find what they needed, and Jared tracking his own path down to Jensen, his fingers slicked, one, then the second and the third, twisting and scissoring, opening up his lover.

 

He moved back up, muddled, confused kisses, words in each others breath, love you, need you, Jensen closing eyes and offering his throat as Jared eased inside, until he laid, balls deep, hazel green eyes opening, Jensen’s face flushed and need etched onto every line on his face. “Move Jared…” he ordered, breathless, frantic for some kind of movement, his dick pressed against his stomach, his own hand reaching between, anything to touch... almost whining at the frustration of not being able to touch. Jared’s rhythm was broken; his eyes shut tight, no kisses, just exchanges of breath in open mouths gasping for air.

 

It was over so quick, like teenagers on a first date, the absence had made it so easy, like a light to the touch paper Jared keened as he pulled his head back, his orgasm explosive, his hand pushing Jensen’s away, twisting and pulling as he brought Jensen close again, Jensen’s hand back there, moving in counterpoint until he lost it again, hot and wet over their joined fingers.

 

“I love you.” Jared kissed into sweat damp skin, swallowing Jensen’s reply in a kiss, moving back and out and falling boneless to one side. Jensen rolling to lean over him, kissing, not wanting to lose the touch, each kiss with the words love you spacing them.

 

The heat subsided, cum cool and wet between them, knowing they needed to clean up but not wanting to let go. They whispered news, the new pilot Jensen was filming for the CW, the cases that Jared had cleared, his promotion, his thoughts on leaving Dallas maybe, Jensen’s refusal to accept that… we’ll be fine… I have scripts… one movie a year…

 

Finally they made to move, ordering food and Jensen leading Jared to the shower, the water was hot and they just stood, the actor and the bodyguard, together.

 

 

THE END


End file.
